Tumbling
by Gmariam
Summary: A week after the events at The Ferret, Ianto finds himself tumbling through the Rift once more, where he learns more than he ever suspected about Jack as he tries to get back to his own time. Set after Greeks Bearing Gifts and the Big Finish audio drama Broken, with many spoilers and perhaps a few new answers.
1. One

One

 _The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places. ~Ernest Hemingway_

It's been a relatively uneventful day at the Hub, which usually means the next will run them into the ground. Gwen and Owen have left early, and Ianto certainly doesn't want to think about what they'll be up to with their unexpected free time. Jack and Tosh have gone to pick up some dinner, because Jack doesn't want to leave Tosh alone after what happened with Mary-or rather, after Ianto pointed out several times that maybe Jack should think about offering her more than extra work as emotional support so she doesn't end up like Ianto and bottle everything up inside until she explodes.

It's been a week since Mary revealed her true nature and Jack killed her, and Tosh has been quiet all day. She seems to be doing better, but Ianto knows how hard it is to lose someone you care about, even if they do turn out to be a deadly evil alien. Ianto had intended to check on her himself and see if she wanted to get dinner or see a movie, but Jack beat him to it; to Ianto's surprise, Jack's invited him along. He rather morbidly feels like it's the first meeting of the Jack Harkness Survivor's Club.

Ianto is glad to be joining them, because he doesn't particularly enjoy early nights home alone anymore. Though it's been several months since Lisa died and he's made his peace with her death at Canary Wharf (he's working on what happened at the Hub,) he still has moments where he misses her so much he feels sick, and most of those moments happen when he is alone in his cold, dark flat. Where he once had a local and could lose himself in the bottom of a pint, those days are clearly over. All he has is Torchwood. At least at work he has a never-ending list of things to do on top of unexpected Rift spikes and alien incursions, as well as a few people he might consider friends one day.

And then there's Jack.

Ianto leans on the railing outside the tourist office and stares out across the dark water. He's come outside to wait for Jack and Tosh, but more than that he needs some fresh air after being cooped up inside all day trying to make sense of the 'unknown device of alien origin' section of the archives. Though it's cloudy and cool, he pulls his pea coat close and enjoys the rare opportunity for quiet contemplation, his thoughts inevitably turning to Jack and where exactly things stand between them.

It's been a long week since the fiasco at The Ferret. The Savior is dead, Mandy is long gone (he's checking up on her to make sure), and no more Radyr residents have gone missing. Ianto went back to the pub once, first thing the next morning, to clean up another Torchwood mess. He'd been surprised when Jack had trusted him to do it alone, but then it had required little more than clearing out the tech in the basement and altering some records for Mandy, both things he was well experienced with. It had been hard, returning to the scene of another crime, another failure. It would have been so easy to reset the Savior's machine and vanish into the Rift, taking his chances on a new life, but he'd resisted the temptation. He had people who needed him here, and a job to do that sometimes, occasionally made a difference. Maybe it was why Jack had let him go, to test him. Ianto had passed, and it was definitely the last time he would ever set foot in The Ferret; he doesn't miss it.

He had tried to kill his boss there. He had yelled at Jack, cursed him and hit him, and finally watched as he was thrown through the Rift, knowing exactly what would happen on the other side. Ianto sometimes wonders if he temporarily lost his sanity that night, but deep down he knows there is no excuse. He'd sworn to see Jack dead, and when he'd had his chance, he'd followed through with it. Always one to keep his word, he had kept it in the worst way possible.

Of course, he'd gone back for Jack and saved him, destroying the Savior and ultimately saving the day for any more troubled residents of the area looking for a way to start over. Problem was, not a damn person knew it except for Jack, but that was Torchwood: anonymously saving the world for over a hundred years. He's fairly sure he's convinced Jack that there's more to him than coffee and filing now. More importantly, Jack has forgiven him for what happened with the Savior. The man seems to have an unlimited capacity for forgiveness; Ianto idly wonders if Jack falls into bed with everyone he forgives so quickly.

At the very least Jack could have fired Ianto, Retconned him, even executed him for what happened with Lisa. Yet in spite of Ianto sentencing him to slavery on an alien world, Jack still forgave him, kissed him, went to bed with him. He's been completely normal since then, never mentioning his unexpected trip through the Rift or what happened after. Their working relationship has, for the most part, gone back to what it was like before Lisa was discovered, only Ianto is trying to be a more active part of the team and speak up for himself, and he feels like Jack is watching out for him, trying to include him more, even asking how he's doing and inviting him to dinner.

They'd agreed that night was one-time only, two broken people seeking comfort together. They'd both done each other wrong and it seemed as good a way as any to move past it. Yet Ianto feels the attraction between them growing stronger each day. They talk more and share meals and even flirt and joke like they used to, when Ianto had first come to the Hub. He'd always enjoyed it, but had set it aside back then as a necessary and impossible thing, something he did to keep Lisa safe and, to some degree, keep himself sane. Now Lisa is gone, and Ianto can't deny how much he thinks about Jack in ways he probably shouldn't given their sordid history. He doesn't want to resist anymore, he wants to know what Jack looks like and feels like and tastes like again. But Jack's his boss, and Ianto is just a glorified secretary with a gun, and PAs don't proposition their bosses again after agreeing not to start any sort of illicit office affair.

He's trying not to think about the possibilities when there's a strange crackling sound behind him, like a fire spitting out electricity. When he turns that's exactly what he sees, only it's hanging in mid-air, a large vortex of blazing white energy shooting sparks of lighting into the night. He can feel the tingling on his skin and swears as he reaches up to touch his earpiece and notify Jack. Of course there's a Rift event while he's enjoying a quiet moment to think, and of course it happens while everyone else is out.

He can handle it. After all, he's actually traveled through the Rift and survived. But it grows quickly and envelops him in its warm embrace, so that he doesn't hear Jack shouting through his earpiece because he can't feel anything, see anything, hear anything. He is nothing and everything as the white light surrounds him, and all he can think is _Not again._

* * *

Author's Note

This story was inspired by the audio drama Broken. If you haven't listened to it, go to Big Finish and do so immediately, it's wonderful! The idea actually came to me before it come out, as I was reading the synopsis. I wrote the first two scenes before it was released, and then realized that my idea would fit perfectly into the new canon of the story. I didn't even have to change the timing, as this was always set just after Greeks Bearing Gifts! But what I quickly saw was that this story could take things from the end of Broken to the end of They Keep Killing Suzie. Because for every beautiful new bit of information we learn in Broken, there are still questions, new questions. No longer, "How in the world did they go from Cyberwoman to sleeping together?" it's now, "How did they go from one night together to pick up lines with a stopwatch?" This is how. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy the story! Please let a writer know what you think: comments keep our blood flowing some days, especially when we have our doubts.


	2. Two

Two

When Ianto awakes, he is lying on a dirt ground with the sun shining overhead, but nothing around him looks familiar except for the concerned face leaning over his.

"And here I thought I'd get to kiss you awake," drawls an American accent Ianto would recognize anywhere. He gingerly sits up, rubbing at the back of his head and trying to remember what's happened. He was on the Quay, there was a bright light, he lost consciousness, and now Jack is hovering over him.

Yet something is clearly different, because this Jack looks quite different from the man Ianto knows. He's younger looking with short hair, though the cocky grin is exactly the same. No boots, no braces, no greatcoat; instead, Jack is wearing old-fashioned clothing, like something from the eighteenth century, perhaps. He holds out a hand and helps Ianto up, still grinning. Ianto stares at him, then looks around. The surroundings match Jack's clothing.

"What the hell is going on?" he gasps, trying to take in the dirt roads, wooden buildings, horses, and carts. "What's happened to Cardiff?"

Jack snorts. "Not much yet, but it gets better, trust me."

Ianto turns to him and stares some more. "What's happened to you?" he asks. There's actually a smallsword at Jack's hip, and he wonders if Jack knows how to use it. Jack catches him staring and winks.

"Again, nothing yet, but maybe it's my lucky day."

"What?" Ianto exclaims, slightly shocked with the innuendo at such a time. "Jack! What's going on? What happened?"

Jack with a cloak and a sword and short hair frowns. "How do you know my name?"

"Because you're Jack Harkness, my boss," Ianto replies, and the man laughs again.

"One out of three isn't bad," he says. "Although I like the other two. Obviously you've confused me with someone else."

"You shot my girlfriend, I'm not confused!" Ianto snaps, although he is definitely confused.

"While that does sounds like something I'd do, however reluctantly, I'm afraid you've still got the wrong man. I was walking along when you collapsed and stopped to help."

"Bullshit!" Ianto says. He grabs Jack's arm, drags him behind a nearby building, and pushes him against the wall. He shoves Jack's cloak aside and points to his wrist strap. "You are definitely the same man, and whatever this is should tell you what happened. Was it the Rift?"

"Ahhhh," says Jack, lowering his voice cautiously. "You know about the Rift."

"Of course I know about the Rift. I work with it every day!"

"What year?" asks Jack, and Ianto frowns. Jack rolls his eyes.

"You're obviously not from this time," he says. "I can tell by your coat, though I was trying to overlook it. Who knows what they're wearing at court these days."

"At court?" Ianto is fairly sure his voice cannot rise any higher. "I'm from 2007. What year is it here?"

"Obviously not that one," Jack answers flippantly. He taps away at his wrist strap, exactly like Ianto has seen him do dozens of times at the Hub. "Yep, you're saturated with Rift energy. My guess is that it picked you up and dropped you here."

"Can we get back?" Ianto asks, and Jack raises an eyebrow.

"We?" he says. "Sorry, but I'm not jumping to the 21st century. I'm on assignment."

"Assignment with what? Jack, what about the Hub? About Gwen and Tosh and Owen?" Ianto steps back, staring in dismay as he starts to realize that this man, this Jack, does not know him at all. Jack has either lost all memory of him, or Ianto has found himself in some sort of parallel universe, or maybe Jack is—

"You're a time traveler, aren't you?" he breathes, running a hand through his hair. "Shit, it's actually true. We sometimes wondered, but you're so secretive we barely know your favorite ice cream flavor."

Jack grins. "That's easy, it's mint chocolate chip. And yes, I'm a time traveler. So if you know me, it must be in my future, which means you should probably stop talking about it or we'll end up changing the timeline."

"Oh god." Ianto glances around the dusty road, the run-down wooden houses, the passer-by in equally old-fashioned clothing. "So I'm in your past?"

Jack shrugs. "Apparently. I haven't been to the 21st century yet. It's 1714, and like I said, I'm working."

"Your job is to time travel?"

"I work for the Time Agency," Jack replies, glancing around as if he's afraid someone will hear them. "Right now I'm here to stop someone from the future from changing the past. It's what we do, maintain the timelines."

"If you travel through time, couldn't you take me back to 2007?" Ianto asks. It seems logical, but Jack shakes his head.

"I'm not supposed to interfere in anything other than the events I'm here to maintain. Your arrival has nothing to do with my mission, it wasn't in any reports. It could be meant to happen."

"I find it very hard to believe my arrival at this particular point in time and space has nothing to do with you, sir," Ianto hisses. Jack's eyes go wide, and he reverses their position, pinning Ianto against the wall.

"What did you call me?" he murmurs, his eyes glazed over. Ianto is fascinated. Jack has always teased him about dropping the formal address and calling him by name, but Ianto likes calling Jack 'sir' because he's pretty sure Jack enjoys it far more than he should. The proof of which is currently playing out before him as this other Jack—young, confident, cocky—licks his lips and stares at Ianto's in turn, his pupils dark and wide.

"You're my boss." Ianto tries to snap, but the words come out slightly slurred, for he's mesmerized by Jack's tongue sliding along his lips and trying to figure out why he's reacting like this, why his head is suddenly so fuzzy, his gut twisting with—

"51st-century pheromones," Ianto murmurs, and Jack grins.

"Ah, you really do know me, don't you?" he asks, and Ianto nods, dumbstruck. "Similar effect?"

"'Course not," Ianto murmurs, although it's a complete lie. He'd felt it in the warehouse months ago, and he's been attracted to Jack ever since, flirting and fighting it every step of the way—at least until tumbling into bed a week ago. Now a different Jack is pressed against him, licking his lips and obviously interested, and how can Ianto resist?

"Your loss," Jack replies, moving closer still. "Better make up for it now."

He leans forward and presses his lips to Ianto. It's like a spark against his skin, and he gasps as he opens his mouth to Jack's tongue. Jack replies with equal enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around Ianto, who finds his own hands moving of their own accord, running up and down Jack's back, Jack's arms, through his soft hair. They kiss for several minutes, soft groans floating around them, legs pressed into thighs and hips grinding together, until Ianto realizes what exactly is going on here.

He's fallen through the Rift and is kissing his time-traveling boss's past self. If he hasn't broken a dozen rules of time travel, he's fairly certain he will if they continue. And he doesn't even want to think about what it will mean when he gets back to his own time, because he _will_ get back to his own time, and the Jack who is his boss is definitely not interested in kissing him again.

"Jack," he says, reluctantly pulling away. Jack nuzzles at his neck.

"You haven't told me your name," he murmurs. "If I'm going to meet you in the future, I want to remember your name so we can do that again."

Ianto laughs nervously. "I bet you say that to all your time-traveling snogging partners."

"Not if I want to forget them," Jack replies. "And I don't want to forget you. Are you sure we're not involved in the future?"

"Quite sure," Ianto replies. Jack steps back.

"Right. I shot your girlfriend." He toes the ground and offers a sheepish smile. "That's awkward. I'm not sure if I should apologize for something I haven't done yet or wait until it happens."

"You've already apologized," Ianto tells him. "And there were…extenuating circumstances. We're good."

"But not together," Jack points out.

"Ah, no," Ianto stutters. "I'm not sure you're the relationship type."

Jack shrugs. "True. My loss, then."

Ianto tries to wrap his mind around that exchange and decides he can't. "Look, I'm changing the timeline just by talking to you, aren't I? And I'll change it more if I go stumbling around 18th century Cardiff. You have to help me!'

There is a crackling sound to the right, and it sounds suspiciously familiar. It couldn't possibly be—

"Maybe I won't have to help you," Jack replies, gazing at the fiery Rift opening before them. "Maybe your future boss already has."

Ianto glances from the Rift to Jack and back to the Rift. "I can't go through there! What if I end up somewhere else? Another planet, another galaxy?"

Jack grins, the genuine heartfelt smile Ianto loves but sees so rarely at the Hub. "Something tells me you'll be all right if you do. Go on."

"But what if—"

Jack kisses him again, short and fast and hard, then steps back, motioning toward the white light. "Go. I think it's meant for you."

"You're sure?" Ianto asks, but Jack shakes his head.

"No," he says. "But my gut says so, and my instincts are pretty good when it comes to this stuff."

Ianto glances back at the Rift and nods. Jack might be crap with interpersonal details, but at work he knows what he's talking about. For whatever reason, he trusts Jack in the future and that's transferred to this one. "See you on the other side, then."

"Something to look forward to," Jack says, grinning.

"If you say so, sir," Ianto replies skeptically. It occurs to him that if he's met Jack's past self, then Jack should have remembered him. Yet he's never said anything, though it might have disrupted Ianto's future if he had, and apparently he's good at maintaining timelines. Ianto's temporally confused thoughts are interrupted, however, when Jack kisses him once more, steps back with a smirk, and nods toward the Rift.

Before Ianto steps through, he turns back. "My name is Jones," he says. "Ianto Jones."

Jack offers him a mock-salute, and Ianto steps through, hoping he'll see his own Jack on the other side, but at the same time wondering what the hell he's going to say when he does.

* * *

He doesn't need to worry about it, as he steps through and finds himself in another version of Cardiff, but still not the city he knows. Gone are the horses and carts, dirt and dust, cloaks and swords. Instead he sees men in pinstripe suits and fedoras walking with women in short dresses and feathers, old Hillmans, Austins, and Fords on the streets, and a few familiar buildings beginning to dot the landscape. And then someone runs into him from the side, knocking them both to the ground in an oddly familiar way.

"Jack?" he asks. The man above him grins that same grin, but now he's wearing a tailcoat, top hat, and black patent leathers that Ianto guesses are all from the 1920s and look brilliant, though Jack's hair is slicked back something severe. He helps Ianto stand up and even brushes some dust from his coat.

"That depends on who's asking."

Ianto's shoulders fall; this Jack doesn't recognize him either. If he doesn't remember their previous encounter, where is he in Jack's timeline now? Has he gone back before Jack's days with the Time Agency?

"I'm…" He trails off, not sure what to say now that he has a vague idea of what's going on. "I'm a coworker. Depending on…" He struggles for words, having done very little time traveling. "Depending on what year it is for you, we've met before. Or we will."

Jack grins pleasantly, but Ianto sees the calculated cunning in it. He slings an arm around Ianto's shoulders and guides him around a corner, out of traffic, but his grip is tight; this is not quite a friendly meeting.

"Found me already," Jack casually remarks. "I only left a few weeks ago." Having gone through this before—the intimidating posture, the lightly threatening tone—Ianto feels fairly prepared to deal with it, and instead of cowering, he shoves Jack away and shrugs his shoulders. It wasn't so long ago that he was restrained, arms tied behind his back, and he doesn't like being reminded of it in any way.

"Back off, Jack," he snaps. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

"Did the Time Agency send you?" Jack asks, hands tucked into his pockets as he glances around the street. "Because I'm not going back. I'll make a deal for the tech, though."

"A deal?" Ianto asks, thoroughly confused. Something happened to this Jack, something that's put him on guard, and Ianto suspects it must be something to do with the Time Agency if Jack thinks they're after him. Did he do something wrong? Or did they? "What tech? Why would the Time Agency send someone after you?"

Jack crosses his arms over his chest. "You tell me. I'm assuming it has something to do with the two years of my memory they stole."

"What?" Ianto asks, even more perplexed by the confession. Jack lost two years of his memory? How does a person deal with that? "Look, I don't know what's going on with the Time Agency or what they did to you. My name is Ianto Jones and I work for Torchwood. The Rift—"

Jack rolls his eyes and starts to walk away. There is something different about this Jack that Ianto can't put his finger on. The cheerful, confident Time Agent he'd met previously has been replaced by someone more guarded and wary. Ianto still needs Jack's help, however, and he grabs Jack by the arm, only to be shaken off.

"Look," Jack says. "I'm not dealing with Torchwood on this."

"On what?" asks Ianto, and Jack grins sideways at him.

"My new job. Now if you don't mind, I'm meeting someone at the opera to discuss a business transaction."

"Are you stopping someone from the future from changing the past?" Ianto asks, and Jack turns to look at him in surprise. "That's what you told me last time we met."

"I don't do that anymore. I'm on my own now. Freelance retail, I suppose you could call it."

"I need to get back to my own time," Ianto starts, but Jack shakes his head.

"Ask Torchwood, then. They should help their own. I don't work for the Time Agency anymore, and they can go to hell for all I care."

"I need you—" Ianto tries again, but Jack interrupts him once more. He leans close, close enough to kiss, and positively smirks as he gazes into Ianto's eyes.

"It'd be amazing, Mr. Jones, but I have to unload a very rare and very valuable Blessing Star on a rich widow before its owner steals it next week. See you in the future, Mr. Jones."

He strides off again with a wink. Ianto is too stunned to follow. Before he can take the time to wonder what happened to this Jack and his memories and his job with the Time Agency, he feels a tug in his gut. He doesn't have a choice this time: the Rift sucks him back in, tumbling head over heels into the white light he's fairly sure he's going to hate before this is all over.

* * *

He rolls onto the ground, landing splayed out like specimen on display in a museum. He feels like one, for several people are staring down at him with various degrees of surprise, including Jack. And once again Jack appears completely different, which must mean Ianto isn't back in his own time yet. He wonders what version of Jack this is, what he's doing here, what else he's been through.

He doesn't look much older than the other two Jacks, though he does look more easy-going and content than the last one. Less bitter, less burdened. Perhaps whatever had happened with the Time Agency was resolved. He's dressed in tan jeans and a blue t-shirt, with a puffy brown jacket that his Jack wouldn't be caught dead wearing. It a way it's more shocking than anything else he's seen Jack in so far; it's far too modern, when his Jack has always seemed so old-fashioned. He grins that same damn grin, though, and offers his hand to help Ianto up. Always chivalrous, then.

"Hey there, stranger," he says. "Thanks for dropping by."

"Jack," says one of the others with him, a tall, skinny man with large ears and a leather jacket.

"I'm just saying hello, Doc," replies Jack. "You guys go on, I'll catch up once I make sure he's all right."

"Don't take long," the other man replies. "We're not here to see the sights."

"Oh, but the sights are gorgeous," Jack replies, winking at Ianto. The gesture feels more genuine, like this is a man who is honestly happy, not playing at it and hiding behind a veneer of fake smiles and flirting. Ianto is even more baffled by what's happening. Is he jumping around Jack's timeline, or following it as Jack lived it? How did he go from the first man to the second, and the second to this?

"What year is it?" Ianto asks.

Jack narrows his eyes. "Now that's an odd question. Usually I get something a bit more inviting, like can I buy you a drink, stranger?"

Ianto rolls his eyes and is rewarded with another happy smile. "I'll take that eye roll, though. Sexy. And it's 2006."

"Closer, then," Ianto murmurs. "Look, I've fallen through the Rift, can you help me?"

Jack's eyebrows shoot up, and he glances around for his companions. They've left, however, and Jack seems unsure of how to reply, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I know you worked for the Time Agency," Ianto says quietly, not wanting to scare the other man away with his knowledge of Jack's past, but needing to get his trust and attention fast. "I know you can travel through time. I need to get back to my own time before I change things in the past."

It's a gamble, but he's hoping that Jack's sense of responsibility will work in his favor. All he needs is a quick trip back to his time, after all; how hard could it be?

"We should check with the Doctor," Jack says, nodding. "He's the expert on things like this. We're sort of in the middle of sorting one right now." He pauses. "In fact, maybe it's not a coincidence that you're here."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Ianto replies, though he's also sure it's not. He's not one to believe in coincidences, especially now. "But I need to get back." He stops when he realizes what Jack said. "Wait, did you say the Doctor?"

Jack grins. "Yep. You know him?"

"He's here? With you?" Ianto asks. That's impossible. Jack's not only a time traveler, but he traveled with the Doctor? Torchwood's persona non-grata? How is that even possible? How did they not know? How did _Ianto_ not know, he is the archivist, after all. He'd read dozens of files on Jack, some of which made no sense, but he'd not seen this coming.

"We're refueling on the Rift," says Jack. "Maybe that's how you got pulled here."

"But why you?" Ianto murmurs, gazing into the distance. Because that is the key question. Why does the Rift keep spitting him out in different points on Jack's timeline? Why not someone else? Why not Ianto's history, someone in his own family? Why couldn't he be tumbling through Lisa's past? Why Jack?

"What can I say, I'm irresistible," Jack replies. "Come on, let's find them. We'll figure it out with the others. Rose and Mickey are from this time, the Doctor is too old for words, and I'm from the 51st century. So whatever year you're from, you'll fit right in."

"No, wait," says Ianto, but when Jack takes off, he has no choice but to follow. Then he stops and turns back toward the Quay and the tourist office. His Jack is down there in the Hub, or he should be, along with Tosh and Owen and Suzie. Maybe Ianto should give up on this young Jack and ask the Jack-in-the-Hub for help.

"I need to get back," he calls. "I'm sorry, I can't go with you!"

Jack turns and saunters back to him, the way he moves and the look in his eyes almost predatory. Ianto thinks back to his night with Jack a week ago, to the kiss he'd shared with Time Agent Jack, and licks his lips as Jack in tan jeans stops before him and leans closer. The pheromones aren't quite as strong, or maybe Ianto is expecting it after experiencing them full on with Time Agent Jack.

"You sure about that?" Jack says softly. "A suit like yours would look great on a ship like ours."

Ianto laughs nervously. "That's some pickup line. Do you always reveal your secret spaceship to strangers?"

Jack's lips are so close to his that it's all he can do to _not_ to lean forward and kiss him. Jack, however, keeps talking.

"Only the gorgeous ones who fall through time," he says. "Besides, I trust you."

"You don't know that you can," Ianto points out.

"Gut instinct," Jack says, and he closes the last bit of distance between them and kisses him. For a moment all thoughts of getting back to his own time, his own Jack, are thrown to the wind as Ianto loses himself to Jack's lips. He can't deny he's wanted this again since he first tasted it a week ago. And this Jack is happy, trusting—so different than his. What happened to change him? What would it be like to know this Jack?

It's as if thinking about it triggers a change in the air around them, and Ianto feels the charge of the Rift opening before he hears the crackle or sees the light. Jack, however, is quite good at kissing, so Ianto ignores everything else and lets his hands roam under Jack's big puffy jacket as Jack's hands move under his pea coat. But the light intensifies, and the crackling grows more insistent as if calling to him, and Ianto knows he's being summoned.

He's tempted to grab Jack's hand and run, but it wouldn't work. Whatever is going on, he needs to see it through to the end. So he pulls away, his lips buzzing with the taste of Jack's kiss.

"That's for you, isn't it?" Jack inclines his head toward the Rift opening, clearly unfazed.

"Think so," says Ianto, but he doesn't move.

"Better not miss your ride, then," Jack says, and steps back.

"Right." Ianto turns reluctantly toward the Rift, but his feet drag. He is glad when Jack grabs his hand.

"Wait," he says. "Have we met before?"

Ianto hesitates. "If we haven't yet, we will," he says, then shrugs. "Time travel."

"Gotta love it," Jack replies, then nods. "Good. Then I'll see you again sometime soon, I hope."

As he has no idea when he is in Jack's timeline and how long it will be for Jack before they meet, Ianto nods. "I'll be there." It's a lame response, but true, and Jack grins.

"Take care until then," Jack replies, and Ianto cocks his head at the odd comment.

"You too, Jack," he says softly. "You too."

But he knows that a lot must happen to Jack, because his boss is such a different man than the three he's met already. Broken, like him. Ianto suspects it's one reason he feels such a pull toward the man. He's not looking to be fixed, not exactly, but he senses a kindred spirit in Jack, someone who has suffered, someone who struggles every day to survive to the next.

When he'd first come to the Hub, he'd admired Jack's strength and resolve, before he'd slowly grown to resent it as he'd kept Lisa hidden beneath them, unable to ask for help when he so desperately wanted to at times. And then Jack was a monster, the man who had killed his girlfriend in cold blood and treated him like a servant.

Yet Jack had shown him forgiveness, and Ianto had wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to someone, to feel _anything_ again, but there was so much between them…Lisa, Gwen, Mary, fairies, cannibals…that Ianto's hatred for Jack had overwhelmed him.

Until he'd seen how wrong he'd been, about everything. It could have crushed him, the realization that he'd been manipulated by Mandy and tempted by the Savior, to the point where he had sentenced Jack to die in slavery in order to escape the pain and misery he blamed on Jack. Only it wasn't Jack's fault, not really; Jack was just as screwed up as he was. It gives him hope, that if Jack can survive, so can he. Now he's starting to see how much more there is to Jack, and wonders what else has shaped him into the man Ianto knows.

He almost wishes his Jack could be more like these other Jacks, so much less broken, but then things would be different for both of them, wouldn't they? And Ianto doesn't want to think about what could have been but isn't, he needs get back to his own time. He isn't sure how much more he can handle of Jack's past.

Unfortunately, the Rift has other ideas, and he walks right back into it, hideous sideburns and all.

* * *

Author's Note:

I hope the title is starting to make sense. I imagine you might be starting to see where this is going, and you might be right. Or you might not. I'm not reinventing the wheel, just giving it a new twist. You may have also noticed how dialogue heavy my stories are, and this one is no exception. If you've listened to Broken, can you hear them speaking these words a week later? I live with these characters talking in my head, but I'm not complaining because JB and GDL especially have such gorgeous voices. Maybe someday I can write for television and actually hear what I write. In the meantime, I'll keep listening to the voices in my head and hope you enjoy the rest! Thank you for reading!


	3. Three

Three

Ianto identifies the next time period he's dropped into quickly. He's seen enough pictures in the archives to recognize the local dress and the area around the Quay. He's in the late 19th century, Victorian Era Cardiff, but there's no sign of Jack. So Ianto settles on a bench to catch his breath. His skin is tingling from his trips through the Rift, and he's starting to feel disoriented, tired, even a bit hungry. Maybe he'll meet a version of Jack who'll take him out for fish and chips.

A bitter laugh escapes his lips as he remembers complaining to Mandy about that very thing, Jack buying him dinner. He'd told her that his boss was a monster, killing people without even giving them a chance. Which was yet another reason he'd let Jack fall through the Rift: to save the world from the murdering bastard. How quickly he'd changed his mind, though. Ianto was still trying to understand it himself. One minute he'd been ridiculously relieved to be free of Jack and Torchwood, the next minute he'd hung up on his mother and raced back in to try to save the man he'd just sentenced to death.

He's stopped from once more examining his motivations that night by a loud grunt, an extremely coarse curse, and the sound of a nearby door slamming hard. Then Jack storms by, muttering under his breath and kicking at the ground. Ianto jumps up, but the man doesn't notice him at all, so Ianto follows behind him. He wants to approach Jack, but the man is clearly upset about something, and Ianto decides to wait. He follows Jack to a pub, and the irony is not lost on him, that they seem to be developing a history with pubs.

Jack orders a drink and slams it back. Ianto casually sits down next to him and is about to order the same—whatever it is since it's clearly not water and he's so thirsty he doesn't care—when he realizes he has no money for the time period, and covers his request with a cough. It catches both the barmaid and Jack's attention.

"Sorry, no money," Ianto mutters to the barmaid.

"Not a problem," says Jack, holding up an envelope. "I've got plenty." He motions to the barmaid—god, she looks like a younger version of Mandy and how unfair is that?—and orders whisky for them both.

"Thanks," says Ianto, and he is more grateful than he should be. He's also thirsty and maybe a stiff drink will help settle his nerves. "I needed this."

"Me too," says Jack, clinking his glass. Their eyes meet and Jack frowns. "Have we met before?"

Ianto laughs into his glass. "I've no idea anymore. I've met you several times, but you never seem to remember me, so I'm not sure it's happened for you yet."

Jack freezes and stares at him. "Time travel?"

"Yep," Ianto replies. Something like hope passes across Jack's face, and he grabs Ianto's hand, dragging him toward a table in the back.

"Two more and some food," he calls to the barmaid. Ianto is both mystified and bemused as Jack almost throws him into a booth and sits across from him, looking excited. He is also extremely distracted by Jack's ridiculous sideburns.

"Do you have a vortex manipulator?" Jack asks quietly. "Can you get me out of here?"

Ianto's heart sinks. "I was actually going to ask you the same thing—can _you_ get me back to _my_ time? And what's a vortex manipulator?"

Jack stares at him for so long Ianto knows he's said the wrong thing. Finally Jack sighs, finishes his drink, and reaches for the third one the barmaid places on the table. When he glances back up at Ianto, his face is indescribably sad.

"It's this," Jack replies quietly, showing him his wrist strap. "It's how I traveled through time, once, only mine doesn't work anymore. Burned out years ago."

"Years ago…" Ianto trails off at the implication. "You mean, you've been stuck here?"

"For decades," Jack replies bitterly. "I was hoping to meet someone here, someone who could help me, but I've waited for so long I'm starting to think he forgot about me."

It clicks immediately for Ianto. "The Doctor, you're waiting for the Doctor."

"You know him?" Jack asks, his excitement and hope flaring once more. "Can you contact him? I need to find him!"

"I don't know him, I'm sorry," Ianto replies, shaking his head and feeling even worse. Jack appears devastated. "But I know you traveled with him. Did you get separated?"

"You could say that," Jack replies bitterly. "He left me behind. He probably thought I was dead, but I wasn't, and when I teleported here hoping to find him my manipulator burned out."

"How long have you been waiting?" Ianto can't help but ask, dreading the answer.

"Forty years," Jack replies. He slumps in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Forty fucking years, and not a word. Nothing. I'm stuck on this god-forsaken ball of dirt, alone."

"My god," Ianto whispers. He's horrified to learn that Jack has spent so much time alone, waiting for help from someone who abandoned him and forgot him. And then something occurs to Ianto… "Forty years? You look…well, good. Not much older than the last time I saw you."

Jack knocks back the rest of his drink and grins, but it's not the happy, carefree grin, it's the broken, bitter one. "I'm much more complicated than I look."

Ianto blinks, because he'd said almost the same thing to Jack a week ago at another pub. Everyone on the team knew Jack was more complicated than any of them, but Ianto was only now starting to understand just how much more. Time traveler. Former companion to the Doctor. Strangely long lived. And, judging by yet another whisky set at his elbow, quite possibly an alcoholic. Well, Ianto could certainly relate to the last.

"So when did you last meet me?" Jack asks. Ianto toys with his glass, Jack motions for another, and when it arrives, Ianto takes a long sip before he answers, throwing caution to the wind when it comes to affecting the timeline. Jack doesn't remember him, so there's a good chance Jack won't remember anything he says either.

"21st century," he says. "And that was after the 18th and 20th."

Jack chokes a bit on his drink. "Wait, we've met in three different centuries? What's going on here, exactly?"

"I don't know," Ianto replies miserably. "It's the Rift, it's been dropping me off, always somewhere along your timeline. I don't know how and I don't know why, I just want to get back to my own time."

"But I don't remember meeting you," Jack murmurs, then cocks his head with that leer Ianto's seen several times now. "And I'd definitely remember you."

"Yes, yes, been there done that," Ianto replies. "I don't know why you don't remember me, but someday we'll—"

"Stop!" Jack says, holding up his hand. "You can't tell me about the future, it could corrupt the timeline."

"I thought you didn't care about the Time Agency," Ianto replies. "You said they could go to hell after what they did to you."

Jack looks slightly amazed. "I told you that?"

"You didn't tell me much," Ianto grumbles. "You usually don't." He waves a hand at Jack, a vague floppy motion that means the drink has gone to his head too fast. Which is not surprising, as he's had nothing to eat for hours and hasn't had a drink since the night at the Ferret. "Always keeping secrets. A time traveler, running around with the Doctor, older than you look."

Jack swirls his drink and pierces Ianto with a look. "You know me in your own time too, don't you?"

Ianto runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I work with you, actually. And tumbling through your past is not easy, you know."

"I can imagine," says Jack. The barmaid brings over some food, which Jack tells Ianto to tuck into, and he does, because he's quite hungry and needs to keep his head on straight if Jack is going to keep ordering drinks. And who knows when he'll get back to that dinner he was supposed to be sharing with Jack and Tosh in his own time, so he may as well take advantage now.

"So did we sleep together?" Jack asks, and Ianto chokes on a chicken leg. He takes a deep sip of whisky, which just makes it worse, and all the while Jack laughs at him. At least it's not a sad laugh, but a genuinely amused laugh that Ianto imagines Jack hasn't experienced for a while, stuck in 19th century Cardiff on his own for so long.

"Why…" He clears his throat. "Why would you ask that? Do you always sleep with the people you work with?"

"Only if they're my type," says Jack, leaning forward. "And you are definitely my type."

Ianto rolls his eyes as he bites into a warm roll. "Stuff it, I've already snogged two of you, I'm not going for the trifecta." When Jack laughs again, Ianto can't help but grin. "Anyway, you're a moody son of a bitch in every time I meet you. You stomped right by me not half an hour ago and now you're trying to get me into bed."

"Yeah, well," Jack pushes some food around his plate, sops up some gravy, and stuffs it in his mouth. He's just as messy as the man Ianto eats with back at the Hub. "I've been conscripted, so to speak. A good drink and a pretty face is the perfect distraction, as far as I'm concerned."

"Conscripted? Into the army?" asked Ianto. He tries to remember his history, didn't think there was anything major going on at the moment he was stuck in.

"No, into Torchwood," Jack replies bitterly. "Which, if you're a time traveler, you'll probably have heard of it, so I have no problem revealing their secret existence whatsoever. They can sod it for all I care."

Ianto sets down his silverware and wipes his mouth. He stares at Jack until the other man speaks through a mouthful of mushy peas. "What?"

"You work for Torchwood?" Ianto asks. "And you're pissed off about it?"

Jack studies him for a moment. "Do you know Torchwood?" Ianto nods and Jack continues. "They're not the magnanimous organization they claim they are. They torture and kill aliens. Hell, they torture and kill operatives."

Ianto blanches, but Jack continues before he can ask. "They want to protect the planet, but they think everything is evil. They shot a blowfish in cold blood, for no reason other than he was alien and no more use to them! And don't get me started on the Doctor. They get their hands on him, and they'll dissect him for sure."

Ianto stares a bit longer before he can't hold it in any longer. He bursts out laughing. Jack looks hurt as he leans back and crosses his hands over his chest.

"Something funny about all that?" he asks stiffly. Ianto shakes his head.

"No, it's just that…I shouldn't even be telling you this…but I work for Torchwood in the future. With you." When Jack's eyes go wide, Ianto smirks. "In fact, you're my boss."

"Bullshit," Jack says. "And you shouldn't be telling me this, you'll change my timeline!"

Ianto shrugs. "You haven't remembered me yet, so I suspect you won't remember this either. Therefore, I can tell you that you're in charge of Torchwood now, and it's a better place. We try to help first—people, aliens, doesn't matter. We talk, work for peace before using violence. All because of you."

"Really?" Jack murmurs, sitting back. "Damn. What year did you say you were from?"

"Er…" Ianto hesitates only momentarily. "2007."

Jack's eyes slip closed. "That's a century away," he whispers.

"Jack?" Ianto asks, tapping Jack's hand to get his attention after a long silence. "What's wrong? Maybe you find your Doctor, jump in time again."

"Or maybe I take the long road," Jack says. His head falls between his hands. "She said two centuries would turn before I met him again. That's over a hundred years." He takes a deep breath and looks up. "At least I have a gorgeous Welshman to look forward to." The levity is fake, but Ianto recognizes it immediately and respects it, goes with it.

"You already said that and forgot me once, so don't make any promises," he returns lightly. "Look, maybe we can both get back to the time we need. Have you tried using the Rift?"

Jack snorts as he goes back to his meal. Ianto picks at his, no longer hungry as some of the implications of what Jack has shared start to sink in. "No. Torchwood is just starting to figure it out. It'll be decades before they can harness it, manipulate it."

"It brought me here," Ianto points out. "And it keeps spitting me out again at other points in time. You could come with me, take your chances?"

Jack laughs bitterly. "I'm sorely tempted, but I need to stick around here. Anyway, I don't even know your name. I don't tend to Rift-hop with strangers."

Ianto briefly contemplates giving Jack a fake name, but since he's fairly certain Jack won't remember this, he doesn't bother. "Ianto Jones."

"Jack Harkness," says Jack, tipping his head. "But you knew that."

"Yeah," Ianto murmurs. They are silent for a long moment as they pick at their food. The atmosphere feels heavy now, like all hope's been sucked out of the room. "Look, Jack…"

Jack looks up but does not say anything, and Ianto can see by the look in Jack's eyes that he's thinking about his future. What did he meant that two centuries would turn before he met the Doctor again? Does he really stay in Cardiff until 2007? Ianto can't even begin to imagine living that long.

"I know you don't like Torchwood right now, but it gets better. Eventually. Maybe you're meant to change it, by working with them now."

"Not sure how," Jack replies, once again through a mouthful of food. "They're a bunch of psychos at the moment."

"You start small," Ianto replies, wondering where this grand speech is coming from. Yet it feels right. Torchwood Three may not be perfect, but it's not the one Jack described to him five minutes earlier. Maybe that's _because_ of Jack. "Save an alien here, stop a dastardly plot there."

"Dastardly?" Jack teases, and Ianto rolls his eyes. Jack whistles under his breath.

"That's sexy, you know. You could topple governments with that eye roll."

"I"ll remember that the next time you ask for coffee," Ianto replies with another.

"Okay, so maybe I stick with Torchwood and cross my fingers that someday things turn out better. What about you?"

Ianto sighs. "I keep running into you and asking for help, but each time the Rift opens up again and drops me off somewhere else. So it's probably only a matter of time before—"

He is cut off by a loud scream, followed by chairs scraping along the floor and more shouts as the bar empties around them. Turning around, he sees the familiar white glow in front of the bar.

"Before the midnight carriage arrives?" Jack finishes for him. He jerks his head at the Rift. "Never seen anything like that before, nice."

"Trust me, I have, and it's not." Ianto stands and brushes his trousers off. Jack stands with him.

"You know," he says. "I just met you, but I'm going to miss you, Ianto Jones."

"Doubt it," Ianto snorts. "You don't usually notice …" He cuts himself off before he finishes a bitter retort. To be fair, Jack has noticed him more at the Hub, but that doesn't mean he'd actually miss Ianto if he got stuck in the past, just like this Jack will certainly not miss Ianto when he returns to the future. "Never mind."

"If I didn't notice you in your time, I'm a fool," Jack says. "Make me notice, because you have a lot to offer."

"You don't know that at all," Ianto protests, even though he feels it's true. He can do so much more, if he were only given the opportunity.

"Instinct," Jack replies. "You've already given me something to think about. Knock some sense into that other guy's head too."

Ianto grins. "Right. He's pretty thick-headed, though."

Jack taps his temple. "Always have been." He sobers up quickly. "But thank you."

Ianto inclines his head. "It'll be all right," he says. "You'll survive this, because I've seen how much you accomplish."

He can also see the pain and heartbreak in Jack's eye, shining clear, and he steps forward to take Jack's face in his hands. "You may feel broken, but I don't believe you will ever break. You are the strongest man I've ever met."

He kisses Jack, pouring his faith and trust into it and wondering where the hell it came from. Yet he finds it's true: he's seen some of Jack's past and though he's as confused as ever, he can see it's been a hard road for Jack, harder than any of them ever imagined. He means what he said, however impulsive the words: Jack is the strongest man he knows, and a good one at that.

There is another shout as the Rift opening grows, apparently impatient for Ianto's active participation. So he finishes the kiss—it's the best one yet as far as he's concerned—and is somewhat pleased to see that Jack looks slightly dazed when they step apart.

"Good luck, Jack," he says as he leaves. "I'll see you again soon."

He has no idea which Jack he'll meet, though. And while a part of him wants to get back to his own time, now his curiosity is thoroughly stoked and another part of him wants to know more about Jack's past.

Especially if there's more kissing.

* * *

He ends up in a Cardiff that is starting to look more familiar: the 1940s, which he knows from the newspaper that blows by on the pavement. It's a beautiful spring day, but there is a tension in the air he can't place. He walks a bit, making sure not to stray far, though the trip to the pub with Victorian Jack, as he thinks of him, has Ianto wondering if the Rift will find him no matter where he wanders.

He comes across a group of soldiers standing around outside a brick building, all with large rucksacks, and many with wives and girlfriends. This is where the somber mood is coming from, because there are hugs and kisses and tears and goodbyes, and it is quickly obvious the men are shipping out to war. Ianto stands nearby and watches as the men prepare to go to battle. It is a moving sight, watching history play out before him, knowing how many men do not return to their loved ones.

A couple strides up the street toward the group, and with a shock Ianto recognizes Jack, arm in arm with a beautiful young woman with brilliant blue eyes. They both look gutted at their imminent parting, particularly when they stop and embrace on the corner, away from the others.

Ianto watches shamelessly, trying to wrap his mind around what he is seeing. Even from a distance he can tell this is a much different man than the others he's met. And the woman. Jack clearly cares about her, whereas the Jack he knows doesn't seem like a man to make any kind of formal attachments whatsoever.

The woman looks familiar, and Ianto moves closer, trying to listen in and find out who she might be. He's already abandoned all thoughts of approaching this Jack. The man is clearly busy, shipping out and saying goodbye. There's nothing Jack could do for him, he's going to war. Ianto watches as Jack brushes the woman's hair back, kisses her forehead, murmurs her name. _Estelle._

The couple share a deep kiss, and it is obvious how much Jack loves this woman. She presses something into his hand, and Ianto can see the tears in Jack's eyes. Finally parting with one last embrace, Jack joins the other soldiers, smiling bravely before offering a final wave goodbye to Estelle. Wife, girlfriend, or fiancée, Ianto cannot say. He is too stunned. Jack is going off to fight in World War II. He is certain, deep down, that Jack has spent the past forty-five years in Cardiff waiting for his Doctor. He'd been in his twenties when Ianto had first met him jumping through time, and he'd been stuck in Cardiff for forty years when they'd gone to the pub. Which means Jack is now over a hundred years old and doesn't look a day over thirty-five.

And then there is the woman, Estelle. There is no doubt in Ianto's mind this is Estelle Cole, the old woman who had been killed by the fairies several weeks ago. Jack had been devastated at the time. He'd told Ianto she'd been an old family friend, but now Ianto knows the truth. Jack had loved Estelle Cole as a young woman. Somehow he'd survived the war and moved on—living through the rest of the twentieth century or jumping to the twenty-first, though Ianto knows its more likely the former than the latter—and Estelle had aged while he hadn't. Now she's lost to the fairies and Jack is alone again.

Ianto had once asked Jack if he'd ever loved anyone so much. Now he has his answer. And it's breaking his heart.

* * *

The Rift picks him up quickly and spits him out just as fast, as if it only wanted to show him a glimpse of something, not leave him to experience Jack and Estelle's heartbreak. It's dark when he lands with an inelegant thump on his arse in patch of wet grass. With a curse, he stands and immediately feels the chill around him. It's fall, for the trees are bare, and it's late, for the park is empty. Except for a lone man walking the path, the shadow of his coat billowing behind him, and Ianto has little doubt who it is. He has no idea what year it is, though; for all he knows, he could be back in his own time.

Finding a nearby park bench, Ianto sits and waits for Jack to come to him, because he knows the man will walk his way and stop. And he does, sitting down without a word, glancing around, and then pulling out several ten pound notes. He discreetly holds them out; Ianto stares.

"I don't usually like to talk during this part," Jack finally says, waving the money. Ianto does not take it. Jack turns to him and frowns. "What, prices go up around here while I was gone?"

"Prices?" Ianto echoes, and then gasps. He slides away from Jack and tries to suppress the slight twinge of disgust he feels. He shouldn't be surprised, but he is. He just watched a very emotional Jack say goodbye to his lover. Now he's sitting next to a very impersonal Jack ready and willing to pay for cheap sex in a park. What's changed?

"Sorry sir," he finally manages to squeeze out, thinking fast. "I think you've mistaken for someone else."

Jack's head whips around. "Not working? You here for the same thing then?"

Ianto's heart is pounding wildly at what might be one of the most surreal conversations he's ever had. "Something like that."

Jack nods. His face is so blank, devoid of expression, his voice flat, like he feels nothing. "I could be persuaded to something more mutual." A sideways leer reminds Ianto this is still Jack. "I like the suit, but it'd look better on—"

Ianto stops him before Jack can finish that tired pickup line. It's rather mortifying, seeing the man he slept with a week ago picking up anonymous partners in the park. No wonder Jack didn't want anything more than one night. Ianto probably gave him exactly what he wanted only Jack didn't have to shell out for some random rent boy. No, that's not true. Jack had been reluctant at first, it was Ianto would had moved things forward. And he'd agreed with Jack that it would be only one time, so why was he still thinking about it?

"No," Ianto interrupts. "Sir…is everything all right?" He's not sure why he's reverted back to the 'sir', except that Jack is in his greatcoat (finally!) and exuding that feeling of command Ianto associates with the man back at the Hub. And he's more than a bit concerned that this man would react poorly if Ianto used his name right now. There's a sharp edge to this Jack that Ianto can see and sense is dangerous.

"What do you mean?" Jack asks warily. He glances around the park, probably looking for another mark. Ianto refuses to think about it.

"You seem tense," Ianto offers. "Different than…" He trails off as soon as he realizes his error.

"Different than what?" Jack says, his voice holding that subtle level of threat Ianto recognizes only too well. Damn. In for a penny then.

"Different than the last time we met," Ianto replies. Jack grins his shark grin.

"Oh, I'd remember someone like you," he says, leaning closer. "Especially that suit. Latest from London?"

"Not exactly," Ianto replies. What is it with Jack and suits? Apparently he's always had a fascination with them that didn't begin with Ianto. Ianto's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed with that particular insight.

"So where do I know you from?" asks Jack, gazing around again in disinterest. "Bar, club? Different park?"

"Of course not," Ianto snaps. "I don't wander the park paying for anonymous blow jobs, unless you were looking for help with a Weevil."

He's certain Jack will pull out his Webley, but he can't help snapping at this man. He doesn't like this Jack, detached and cool and with such an aura of uncaring distance that Ianto almost shivers from it. Once again he wonders how all these Jacks can be the same man.

"So you know what a Weevil is," Jack offers casually. No gun in Ianto's face yet, that's good.

"Of course I do, I work for Torchwood."

That gets Jack's attention quick. He looks Ianto up and down and sneers, a look of doubt and disgust on his face. "No you don't. Especially not here in Cardiff."

"I do," said Ianto, trying to stay strong when the words sting. He tells himself he's all right, he's better, he belongs in Torchwood, but Jack's words bring back all the doubts that have plagued him these past months. He takes a deep breath. "In the future."

Jack barks out an ugly laugh. Ianto has had it and stands to leave. He's seen enough, learned enough. He knew perfectly well that Jack was capable of coldness and cruelty, he's already experienced it personally; why is the Rift showing him another version of it? What happened to the lonely man stuck in Cardiff, the heartbroken lover saying goodbye? How can this man be the same man who forgave Ianto not once, but twice for betraying him, hurting him?

Jack reaches out and grabs Ianto's arm. "No, you're not going anywhere, Mr. Jones."

A spark of hope flares in Ianto's gut, that maybe Jack is finally starting to remember these visits. Though that might mean irrevocable damage to the timeline, it still feels better than being constantly snogged and forgotten.

"You remember me?" he asks. "The other times we've met?"

Jack waves Ianto's wallet in front of him, tosses it back. So Jack has pickpocket skills as well.

"Afraid not," he says. "Just nimble fingers." There is no leer, no wag of the eyebrows. His Jack would have played the innuendo until it was dead and done; this one means it literally.

"Well, we have," says Ianto. "What year is it?"

"What year are you from?" asks Jack.

"2007," Ianto snaps. "When am I now?"

Jack leans back and lays his arms across the bench. Ianto is reminded of the spider inviting the fly into his parlor. "1965," Jack replies. "Now talk to me before I haul you in."

"The last time I saw you it was 1941," says Ianto, hearing the sadness in his voice. "You were shipping out for the war. You obviously survived."

"I usually do," Jack replies blandly.

"Have you been in Cardiff ever since?"

Jack doesn't answer, studies him carefully, his face blank. Ianto feels like he can read his Jack fairly well most of the time, but not this man—his mask is strong.

"Look, I know you're waiting for the Doctor," says Ianto, weary after repeating himself so many times. "And I know you're not aging as you wait. So you might as well give me another piece of the puzzle before the Rift sucks me back in and drops me somewhere else in your past."

Jack stands slowly and stares him down. "You know nothing about me," he says, his voice deadly as it had been the night Lisa had died. "And I suggest you forget everything you think you know."

"I know you loved her, Estelle Cole. What happened? Didn't you come back to her?" Ianto is not sure why he's gravitated toward that particular subject, but it seems so unlikely that this Jack would give a damn about anyone, yet alone fall in love, and that is what Ianto struggles with, the stark contrasts between the men he's met.

Jack's hand shoots out to grip him by the throat. "Don't talk about her. You know nothing."

"She's not dead, I know that." Ianto coughs and continues. "Did she leave you, move on?" And then it hits him. "You haven't aged and she has. You left her. Oh Christ, Jack…"

"How do you know my name?" Jack growls. "Let alone…all that? I've never seen you before! What do you want from me?" Jack is not only angry, but clearly hurting. And Ianto's heart aches with him.

"I don't know," he says softly, stepping closer. "But I am so sorry for you pain and suffering these many long years."

Jack's lower lip quivers, but the rest of his body is locked. Ianto takes one more step forward and kisses him, a brief and very chaste kiss on the lips that leaves Jack staring at him with more pain in his eyes than Ianto has ever seen.

"You loved her," he says quietly. "Like I loved Lisa. You'll love again someday, just like I will." He laughs through his nose. "If I ever get back to my own time and stop tumbling around your sordid past."

"Who are you?" Jack whispers.

"Someone who cares," Ianto replies, and is not surprised to find it's true. He cares about Jack. Seeing him so happy, so sad, so confident, so broken, has only now revealed his feelings. Jack is a human being like rest of them, a man who has experienced more than anyone, who feels pain and heartbreak and happiness and joy, who makes mistakes but must live with them for decades.

Jack steps away from him, breaking the spell. "You shouldn't. I've done terrible things. I just sent…well, I'm a monster. It's why they called me."

Ianto nods in agreement, and Jack's eyes go wide with hurt. "I thought so once too. Deep down, we all have a bit of the monster inside us. But it doesn't define us, make us all that we are. It's how we fight the monster that matters. I know who you are, Jack. You're a good man trying to do the right thing."

He's slightly worried Jack is going to break down right then and there, and Ianto is certain he can't handle that. Fortunately, Jack holds it together.

"So we've met before?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"And we'll meet again. And whatever you've done or will do…I will always forgive you, just as you forgave me."

Jack chokes back a sob, timed just right with a small explosion behind the park bench. The Rift is ready to move on, and so is Ianto. He contemplates kissing Jack once more, but instead offers the little salute one of the other Jacks had given him. It earns him a big grin, a beautiful, honest smile. Ianto feels better leaving Jack with a smile.

But he dreads what he'll find next.

* * *

Jack pushing a baby carriage through the same park is definitely not what he was expecting. Ianto is not there for long, only long enough to watch Jack lift a baby from the carriage, his face bright with happiness, and coo to her in a sing-song voice that is jarring for Ianto yet fitting for this much happier man. Ianto moves a bit closer, sees that it's a girl and has no doubt this is Jack's daughter from the sparkling blue eyes. He sets her down in the grass and she takes a few toddling steps, laughing out loud as she darts into Jack's arms.

"Good job, Melissa," he says, and Ianto files the name away before he's sucked back into Jack's past, tumbling through the Rift and passing through scene after scene like he's on a whirlwind tour of the most incredible life he's known: Jack in uniform again, only this time he's in London, standing on Big Ben and dancing with a blond-haired woman whom Ianto's seen before; Jack in a circus, pretending to die; Jack covertly holding hands with a handsome man in spite of it very clearly being a time that would not accept such a thing; Jack exchanging wedding vows with a beautiful woman named Catherine; Jack back in London, running with the Queen, hideous sideburns and all; Jack shouting down Yvonne Hartmann at Torchwood Tower; Jack and Archie, the crazy coot from Two, smoking cigars on a loch in Scotland. Jack never aging, killing and saving, loving and laughing, screaming and crying. Through it all, Jack suffering, over and over.

And then Ianto lands in the Hub, hoping that it's all over and he's back, that everything will be fine and life will go back to normal in spite of all he's seen. Only Jack's nightmare is apparently never-ending, for there is blood everywhere.

* * *

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed my speculation based on some canon events! If you are wondering about certain things, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the end. I hope to post the next chapter over the weekend and the final chapter next week. Thank you for reading! Please do leave a note if you can - comments, questions, anything. It lets us writers know that yes, someone is actually reading our hard work, and maybe even likes it. And don't forget to listen to Broken, it's fantastic. Thanks and enjoy!


	4. Four

Four

There is blood everywhere, but it is not his Hub.

Ianto knows this time, this date. It's New Year's Eve, 1999. The turn of the century. According to the records, this is when Jack officially took over Torchwood Three. But the records say nothing about what really happened, only that Jack had found the entire team dead after returning from a mission.

Ianto is a researcher and archivist, however, and though much of Jack's past has been hidden or lost in the records, he's seen the classified reports on this, back when he'd been filing the paperwork on the quantum transducer in the secure archives, the ones in Jack's spindly handwriting that told the rest of the story. How he'd found Alex Hopkins in the Hub when he'd returned, waiting for him. How Alex had been holding a pendant of some sort, his eyes bright with insanity as he claimed to have killed everyone because of what he saw coming. And how he'd then blown his brains out right in front of Jack, leaving Jack the only surviving member and defacto leader of Torchwood Three.

It's a nightmare, blood on the floor seeping into the bricks and stones of the Hub. More blood and gore splattered across a desk, a chair, the railing, the walkway. The air is heavy with the scent of death. He must find Jack, though he is terrified at what state Jack will be in. How did Jack move past such a bloodbath? How did he find the strength to take over, rebuild, live again?

Ianto's been through his own trauma and knows how hard it is. The nightmares, the flashbacks. The guilt of surviving when so many others did not. Losing everyone you knew, the life you once lead. It's something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, and now Jack is going through it. Alone.

The Hub is empty, but Ianto does not want to chance calling out for anyone. He has a fairly good idea of where Jack will be, however, and he makes his way to the morgue as quietly as he can. Sure enough, there is a lone figure sitting on the floor. His back is against the drawers, legs sprawled out before him. A half empty bottle of scotch sits on the floor with a crystal glass beside it. Jack's eyes are closed, and he doesn't move even when he clearly hears Ianto's footsteps.

"Torchwood, UNIT, or other?" he asks, and there is so much pain, so much heartache in his voice that Ianto's reply catches in his throat and he cannot speak. Jack opens bleary eyes, his head lolling drunkenly as he looks Ianto up and down.

"Hard to tell," he says. "You could be anything, maybe even a figment of my imagination." He shuts his eyes again, and Ianto stands there, watching this broken man who's just laid six people to rest in the morgue. How many others has he watched die over the years?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Ianto finally whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Jack's eyes snap open. "Not UNIT, then. They don't apologize." He pours some scotch into his glass and downs it in one go. Ianto stands and stares some more, not sure what to do, what to say. Jack glances up at him, back at his glass, back to Ianto.

"Sorry, did you want some? Only my boss just shot everyone I worked with so I didn't think I'd be sharing."

"It's fine," Ianto says, tucking his hands into his pockets and forcing himself to move closer. "Do you, uh…mind if I join you, though?" He inclines his head at the floor next to Jack, who laughs hollowly and pats the ground.

"Not at all," he says. "Although I'm not up for rolling around on the ground tonight, I'm afraid."

Ianto smiles at that, remembering how they'd once rolled around the floor of a warehouse trying to avoid a falling pteranodon. Jack notices and cocks an eyebrow.

"Do I know you?" he asks.

"Not yet," Ianto replies. Jack laughs, not a happy laugh, but a brittle, on the edge of falling to pieces laugh.

"Sounds promising." His breath catches and he hiccups, and Ianto's heart breaks again. "So who are you then?" Jack asks.

"Torchwood," Ianto says softly. "Or I will be, in a few years."

"A few years?" Jack has had a lot to drink if he can't figure it out. "That's not promising, that's confusing."

"I'm from the future," Ianto replies.

"Ooh," Jack says. "You picked a hell of a day to visit. Why's that then?"

"Don't know," Ianto replies. "The Rift is tumbling me around your timeline for some reason."

"Bloody Rift," Jack mutters. His head flips toward Ianto. "So you're stuck in my past. That sucks."

"It's all right," Ianto says, his own head falling back. "It's been…enlightening."

"I'm sorry," says Jack. "but if you've seen my past, you've seen some pretty bad stuff."

"Yes," Ianto whispers. He reaches out and lays a hand on Jack's knee. "I'm sorry about what happened upstairs, Jack. I had no idea it was so bad."

"You knew it happened?" Jack asks, sounding curious but not angry, as if he doesn't have enough energy to be mad. "But you didn't stop it?"

"It was already over when I got here," Ianto says. "And yes, I read the reports. Jack…you're in charge now, you know."

Jack groans and falls forward, his head landing between his knees. "No, no way. I don't care what Alex said, I'm not staying. Yvonne won't keep me on anyway, she hates me and I hate her."

"Jack, you're the best man for the job," Ianto says. "You're the _only_ man for the job. You have to do this."

"I don't have to do anything!" Jack roared, arms flailing out and narrowing missing Ianto. "For once in my life maybe I'll do what I want to do, not what I have to do."

Ianto takes a breath. Maybe this is why he's here, to talk Jack into staying with Torchwood. Only Jack won't remember, so Ianto isn't sure what the point is. He still has to try, though.

"You might miss the Doctor, then," he says, earning a shocked look in return. "And more importantly, Torchwood would miss you. We need you, Jack. This is your chance to make the biggest difference yet. I know you've been trying. I know you've had to do terrible things, things you hated doing. Now you can change all that, make Torchwood what it should be."

"And what's that? If it's alien, it's ours? For Queen and country? Keep calm and carry on?"

"The 21st century is when everything changes, and Torchwood needs to be ready," Ianto says quietly, wondering if he was feeding Jack the line that Jack in turn fed them.

"That's what Alex said before he blew his brains out," Jack replies bitterly. "I don't know what the hell that means."

"It means…" Ianto trails off, because he doesn't know what it means either. None of the team did, it was simply another one of those strange things Jack said. "Look, Alex saw something in that pendant, something that terrified him. This is your chance to change what he saw."

"I can't change the future," Jack whispers, his voice cracking. "There's nothing I can do, I couldn't even die with the rest of them and escape this hellhole."

"And I'm glad you didn't!" Ianto exclaims. God, he understands this more than anything, the desperate need to escape the pain, the grief, and the anger. That Jack is sitting here feeling the same as Ianto had a week ago, and that Ianto had accused him of not feeling anything that night at the Ferret, is not lost on him. Once again he realizes how wrong he was about Jack, and how much his words must have hurt. He takes Jack's hand and holds it tight.

"Jack, you weren't meant to die tonight," he starts, and Jack interrupts with a massive snort. He pours himself another glass, toasts Ianto, and sucks it down.

"I'm not meant to die _any_ night," he says with a bitter laugh. "But carry on with the pep talk, please."

Ianto isn't sure what Jack means exactly, and doesn't want to consider the impossible possibilities. He continues. "You're meant to take over Torchwood Three, to start getting us ready, to change the way things are done, to save the world. I've met you, Jack. I've seen you do it. I've seen you save the world."

Jack is quiet for so long Ianto wonders if he's passed out. Finally Jack tosses Ianto's hand back in his lap and stands, completely unsteady. Ianto jumps up to help him but is pushed away. "You're full of shit, you know," Jack says casually, with a grin. "A big Chula warship full of shit. But thanks for trying. Now, go tell Yvonne what's happened so they can get a new team out here before the Weevils and the Rift take over Cardiff."

Jack starts to walk away, his steps erratic, and Ianto follows in case he falls. "No! You can't leave, not now. It's important, Jack."

"It's over, Mr…" He stops, waving his hand in the air and looking confused. "Whatever your name is. Over. I'm not doing this. Torchwood Three is dead."

Ianto is desperate to stop him. He thinks of all the things he's seen in Jack's long life, and tries everything he can.

"Then what about the Doctor?" he asks. "Doesn't he come here? You can't leave Cardiff and chance missing him after all this time!"

"Oh, I'm not leaving Cardiff," Jack replies pleasantly. "Just Torchwood. I can get a coffee, wait for the Doctor, and watch Torchwood implode."

"But the city," Ianto protests. "The Weevils, the Rift—someone needs to protect the city!"

Jack whirls on him, anger flashing from his eyes as he sticks a finger in Ianto's face. "Not me," he growls. "Not my job."

"Cardiff needs you!" Ianto snaps back, barely able to stop himself from shoving Jack or slugging some sense into him. "Jack, I know you. You love this city!"

"Not anymore," Jack replies cheerfully in that quick-change way of the truly pissed.

"Torchwood needs you," says Ianto. "Or Yvonne Hartmann will run it into the ground, like she's doing at One."

"Good to know," Jack singsongs as they head up to the main part of the Hub. "And tempting, but no."

They've reached the main part of the Hub. Ianto shivers, knowing what happened here. Jack grabs his coat from the sofa and glances around, his face etched with pain.

"So that's it?" Ianto asks softly. "You're leaving? You pack up and run and leave the mess for someone else?"

"Fuck you," says Jack.

"No, fuck you, Jack!" Ianto shouts again. "You can't do this! This isn't you, I know it isn't."

"Then you don't know me," Jack replies. "Because I'm leaving. Good night, Mr. Time Traveler."

"My name is Ianto Jones!" Ianto follows after him like a kicked puppy, but he doesn't care, he's determined. This is why he's here, to save Jack, to save Torchwood. To save his own future.

"I work for Torchwood," he says, his voice breaking. "I started with Torchwood One and it destroyed itself. I came here, to the Hub, and…" He can't tell Jack everything, doesn't want to get into it and what if Jack actually remembers this time? Preserving his future with too many revelations might inadvertently change it completely.

"And I work for you," Ianto continues. "You're our leader, our captain. You have saved the world so many times, saved more lives than anyone knows. You saved mine," he whispers, though the final verdict is still out on that one. Yet he knows deep down he's not saying it to convince Jack to stay, but because it's true. In many ways, Jack destroyed his life the night he shot Lisa, the day he took him to the Beacons, the moment he walked into the Ferret; and in so many other ways, he's saved Ianto, by simply being who he is, strong and mysterious and loyal, but most importantly, by forgiving him unconditionally. By accepting Ianto as a colleague, as a friend, and for one night, as a lover. By recognizing and accepting him as broken and reminding Ianto that everyone is broken, they're all just trying to deal with it.

This man before him, however, is not dealing with it. He isn't broken, he's shattered. He's shutting down and walking away, and Ianto fears for Jack's life, as well as the future of Torchwood.

Jack looks shaken, staring at Ianto with wide eyes. He shakes his head in denial. Ianto steps forward. He has one last card left to play.

"What about your family?" he asks quietly. "What about your daughter?"

Jack steps back as if slapped, then bunches his fist and slams it into Ianto's jaw. Ianto stumbles backward, holds up his hands in defense even though his instinct is to fight back.

"You shouldn't know about her!" Jack shouts. "She's supposed to be hidden, how do you know about her?"

"I saw her in your past," gasps Ianto. "When she was a child. What do you mean, she's hidden?"

Jack's lips curl. "They left me years ago. Ran so far and so fast they ended up in witness protection to get away from me. So I don't really have a family. They made another life, and if anyone finds out they are connected to me, they are in danger!"

"Then protect them!" Ianto shouts at him. "Don't sit around and wait for your precious Doctor in a coffee shop somewhere. Keep them safe!"

Jack throws another punch, but this time Ianto blocks him. Jack is drunk enough that Ianto is even able to twist his arm behind his back and push him against a nearby wall.

"Please Jack," he whispers into Jack's ear, trying not to sob. "You are meant to do this. I've seen it, I've seen the good you'll do, but not if you run."

Jack struggles against him, then sags. When Ianto releases his grip somewhat, Jack falls to the floor. Ianto goes with him, watching warily. Tears are streaming from Jack's eyes, and he angrily wipes them away.

"I can't do it," he finally whispers. "Not alone."

"You need a team," Ianto replies. "You'll find them. And they're good people, like you. A doctor, some technological geniuses. You can do this, Jack. You already have."

"In your time," Jack laughs nervously.

"In my time," Ianto replies. Jack frowns.

"So are you one of the people I should find then?" he asks. Ianto shakes his head.

"No," he replies. "I'll find you."

Jack bursts out laughing, though it half sounds like sobbing as well. "That sounds like a bad line from an even worse movie, you know."

Ianto grins. "That's my life, sometimes. A bad movie."

"No, that's Torchwood," Jack says softly. His head falls backward, eyes shut. "A never-ending horror movie."

Ianto tentatively puts his arm around Jack, who lets his head fall to Ianto's shoulder. When Jack's body begins to shake, Ianto holds him tighter and weathers the storm as best as he can. He cries his own tears for all that Jack has been through. They sit like that for a long time, until Ianto almost wonders if Jack has fallen asleep.

"Will you help me?" Jack asks quietly. Ianto pulls his arm back and turns toward Jack. He looks better, less frantic and more resigned. Ianto hates that he's done this to Jack, consigned him to Torchwood yet again when he could have been free. But he knows it's necessary. The world needs Jack, even if Ianto is the only one who knows it, sees it, believes it.

"I'll do whatever I can, sir," he says. Jack is staring at Ianto's lips, and Ianto knows exactly what he is going to say next.

"Kiss me," Jack whispers. "You should kiss me."

Ianto cocks an eyebrow to keep from bursting out laughing. It's such a ridiculous play on his conversation with Jack in the SUV a week ago that he can't help but grin. Jack frowns and leans forward too quickly for Ianto to stop him, pressing his lips to Ianto's. He tastes the salt of Jack's tears, the whisky, imagines being able to actually taste Jack's pain and heartbreak. He lets Jack kiss him, offering comfort and support. Two people, screwed up beyond belief.

One of the Rift alarms goes off then, and a large hole appears in space-time by the foot of the Rift manipulator. With a sigh, Ianto ducks his head. He wishes he could stay and help Jack somehow before returning to his own time, but he can't. The Rift has come for him.

"Time to go?" Jack murmurs sadly, gazing at the white light.

"Time to go," Ianto repeats. He stands and holds out a hand, helping Jack to his feet. He keeps a hold of Jack's hand and squeezes tight.

"You can do this, Jack," he says, willing Jack to believe him. "It may be hard now, but it will be worth it. You will do good work, amazing things. You'll find your team."

"And you'd better find me," Jack says.

"I will," Ianto promises. "And I'll make you coffee that's better than any coffee shop around." He's trying to lighten the mood, and hopes it's worked when Jack grins.

"And will we continue where we left off?" he asks slyly. Ianto laughs out loud, though he doesn't answer.

"Is that a yes?" Jack asks.

"It's… not a no," Ianto replies.

"Hell of a kiss for a potential rejection," Jack points out. Ianto rolls his eyes and walks toward the Rift opening.

"Good luck, Jack," he says softly. Jack nods and waves.

"I should warn you that I might want to take you to dinner next time we meet."

Ianto shakes his head sadly. "I don't think so, sir. It's not like that."

"Oh, I very much doubt that," Jack says. "I know myself well enough to see what's going on here."

"Then you see more than me," Ianto replies. The Rift crackles before him, drawing his attention once more. "Good-bye, Jack."

"Good-bye, Ianto Jones. See you in the future."

Ianto steps through the Rift. The white light grabs him, like tentacles pulling him in and squeezing the life from him. He screams as he's tossed around, pain lancing through his body. He hadn't felt any pain before; he hadn't felt like he was being both crushed to death and ripped apart at the same time. Something's different, and panic threatens to overwhelm him. He can't breathe, he can't see, he can't hear; all around him is blinding, burning light.

And then darkness as he slams into the ground hard and lets the night claim him.

* * *

When Ianto awakes, he wonders for a brief moment if he's died. He's tucked into a warm, king-size bed in an opulent bedroom. Laying on his side in only his shorts, he feels a warm body behind him, one arm wrapped around his chest. A very male arm.

Glancing around, he suspects he's not actually dead but in a hotel, possibly the St. David given the chic modern look, and notices his suit laid out on a nearby chair. His speculation on _when_ he might be is cut short as the arm holding him tight begins stroking his chest, followed by soft kisses dotted on his neck.

"Good morning," murmurs a sleep-laced American accent. Of course it's Jack. Which Jack, however, remains to be seen. Obviously Ianto's last trip through the Rift was a difficult one since he doesn't remember anything after tumbling through the white light. Somehow he's ended up in Jack's bed.

Taking a deep breath, Ianto moves away from Jack, reluctantly admitting to himself that it did feel rather nice. He sits up, covering himself with a sheet as much as he can. Jack grins at him.

"No need for modesty. I've seen it all before."

"That's not creepy," Ianto replies. "Where am I and how did I end up here?"

"You literally fell out of the sky in front of me, up on the Quay. Like a gift from heaven. I brought you back here to my room. We're at the St. David."

So Ianto had been right about the hotel then.

"Annnnd…what year is it?"

"Ianto Jones, quick as ever," Jack laughs. "It's 2059." Ianto gasps and stumbles out of bed.

"What?" he asks. "But…that's the future! How can I jump to the future if it hasn't happened yet? I've only been to the past and—" He stops. "You remember me!"

Jack gets out of bed and reaches for him. He is completely naked, and Ianto takes another step backward, even more confused. Why is a future version of Jack naked in bed with him?

"Of course I remember you," Jack is saying, once more reaching for Ianto and pulling him into a comforting embrace. "I could never forget you." He presses more kisses to Ianto's temple, to his jaw, to his mouth. There is a tenderness and affection there that startles and frightens Ianto. "It's all right. You're safe." More kisses, gentle calming caresses. Ianto could get used to this only-

"Jack!" Ianto exclaims, pushing him away. "What the hell are you doing? Where are your clothes? Why were you in bed with me?"

"I like to sleep naked, you know that," Jack replies. "I wasn't sure how much you'd appreciate me taking all your clothes off after falling through the Rift, but we can certainly remedy that." He reaches for Ianto's boxers, and Ianto bats his hand away.

"Stop it. Why…why would I know that? We've only…and we've never…" He trails off as Jack steps back, a look of deep apprehension on his face.

"What date is it for you?" Jack whispers.

"November, 2007," Ianto replies. Jack's face crumples, and he sinks to the bed, his head bowed.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry, I thought it was later. I should have known," he adds bitterly, standing up and grabbing his clothes from a nearby dresser. "The universe is rarely so kind."

"What?" Ianto asks. "Jack, what's going on?"

"I made a mistake. I thought you were from…later. After we…shit." Jack runs a hand through short hair. For the first time Ianto notices that Jack actually looks older. More weathered, mature, even wise, perhaps. And right now, heartbroken.

"I'm sorry," Ianto says quietly. Jack shakes his head.

"Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for. It's my fault and I assumed…well, I assumed wrong."

"What did you assume?" Ianto asks. Jack does not look at him and begins to pull on his clothing. It feels far more awkward than Jack getting dressed after they'd shagged at Ianto's flat.

"That we had…were…that you…" He sighs. "I can't tell you. It'll affect the timelines."

Ianto lets out a great big snort that surprises Jack, because suddenly it's all so disappointingly clear. "Jack," he asks. "Do you remember meeting me in your past? Before we actually met in the park and I came to Torchwood Three?"

Jack frowns. "No. Why?"

"Because that's what I've been doing for god knows how long," Ianto replies. "I've been tumbling through your past, and you never remember any of it."

"I don't understand," says Jack, buttoning his shirt. Ianto walks over to his suit and begins to get dressed as well, suppressing the tiny twinge of disappointment that Jack had been naked in bed with him and nothing had happened.

"I don't think if any of this is real," Ianto replies with a shrug, hiding his disappointment. "I accepted the trips to the past, but the future…it doesn't make sense anymore. It's probably one very long, very detailed hallucination. Which means anything you tell me doesn't matter, not to the timeline. Because this is not really happening."

"You think this is all a dream?" Jack asks with a frown. "Tell me what's going on."

Ianto finishes getting dressed as he talks, then walks over to the coffee station on the dresser and does his best to make them a decent cup of coffee. Jack groans when he hands it to him.

"God, I miss this," he murmurs. "Still the best I've ever had." He winks, Ianto rolls his eyes, and Jack leans forward to kiss him, leaving Ianto speechless.

"Sorry," says Jack. "Couldn't resist. So you've seen my past but what? You think you made it all up?"

"It's the only explanation," Ianto replies, though he hates it. He wants to believe it's real, but landing in the future doesn't fit. "You never remember any of it, and now I'm in the future obviously trying to figure out how the story ends."

Jack watches him, biting at his thumb as he frowns. "The story never ends," he says enigmatically. "This _is_ real, Ianto. All the things you saw actually happened to me."

"That's what you'd say if my mind made you up," Ianto replies dryly.

"I'd question the state of your mind if you're making up stuff like that," Jack murmurs.

"Yes, well…" Ianto stops to consider it, organize his thoughts. "It's been an interesting week, to say the least. I tried to kill you a week ago, only we fell into bed after I rescued you."

"The Ferret?" asked Jack. "Mandy and the Savior?" When Ianto nods—because of course his made up Jack would remember that—Jack continues. "Yeah, that was a hell of a night."

"Before or after?" Ianto asks, curious in spite of everything. He wonders how his mind will shape Jack's response. Jack laughs.

"Both!" he exclaims. "I fell through the Rift, I died—"

"You what?" demands Ianto.

"—you gave me some very suspicious CPR," Jack continues with a grin that Ianto senses is hiding something. "And the next thing I know we're making out in the SUV." He smiles fondly, caresses Ianto's face. "And it only got better back at yours."

Ianto must look confused, because Jack's words are baffling, and Jack laughs again. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I have no reason to believe any of this," Ianto murmurs. "Especially you, especially now."

"You believed all the terrible things you saw in my past, but you won't believe a good thing in the future?" Jack asks. When Ianto doesn't answer, he takes Ianto's hand and leads him out to the main room. They are in a posh suite on an upper floor, and Ianto can't help but drop Jack's hand and walk to the windows overlooking Cardiff.

Everything looks completely different.

He hears Jack ordering food for them, two continental breakfasts, but is too entranced by the view to stop staring. This is what his city will look like in fifty years, sleek and modern. Ianto wonders if he'll be around to see it, wants to ask but doesn't want to know.

"Come sit down," Jack says. "Please."

Ianto tears himself away from the window and joins Jack on the couch, making sure to sit as far away as possible. Jack rolls his eyes, grabs Ianto's arm, and pulls him closer. Ianto protests and Jack kisses him to stop.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Ianto asks. "You're worse than your past selves."

"Because I miss you," says Jack. Well, that answers that question then.

"Do you kiss everyone you miss like that?" Ianto stutters. Instead of making a joke, Jack shakes his head sadly.

"No, only the ones I—" He stops, looks down, smiles. "The ones I care about. The special ones."

"I'm not special," Ianto says without thinking.

"Yes, you are," Jack insists. "Maybe that's why you're here."

"Because I'm special?" Ianto asks doubtfully.

"Because you're special to me," Jack replies. He is so earnest Ianto almost believes him, until he tells himself it's not real, it's his mind playing tricks.

"I'm really not, though," Ianto says. He holds up a hand when Jack opens his mouth to speak. "I know I'm your employee and your friend and you love my coffee, but there's nothing else. We slept together once. It was comfort, it was support, it— "

"It was amazing," Jack interrupts.

"Yes, it was." Ianto agrees completely. It had been amazing, of course it had. But it didn't _mean_ anything, especially fifty years in the future. "But it was also one night."

"One night that could happen again," Jack says. Ianto shrugs, trying not to think about it even though he's thought about it every day since.

"Maybe," he says. "But it won't. If by some chance any of what I saw was true, then I know you're not interested, not really. You've lead so many different lives, Jack, why would I ever figure into one of them?"

Jack stares at him before holding out his hand. Ianto tentatively takes it and is pulled against Jack once more, his back to Jack's chest, as Jack speaks softly near his ear.

"Ianto, why do you think you're here?"

"I thought the Rift was showing me your past," Ianto replies. Why that's happening, he's not sure, although it's certainly changed the way he thinks about Jack, so perhaps that's part of it. "But the future…" He sighs. "It must be a dream, a way for my mind to make sense of the last week."

"Why?" asks Jack. "What did you need to make sense of?"

"You," Ianto answers immediately. "And how I could both hate you and sleep with you, all in one night."

He feels Jack sigh behind him. "Did you figure anything out?" he asks softly.

"You're broken, just like me," Ianto replies. "Only far more." A sudden insight hits him, and he turns toward Jack. "You know, I never told you why I came back in. That night at the pub."

"To rescue me from a lifetime of slavery?" Jack suggests. Ianto flinches, looks away.

"Yes, that, but I was so ready to run, Jack. I was free of Torchwood, free of you, and I was going to get as far away from Cardiff as I possibly could. And then my mum called." He takes a deep breath. "She's sick. She needs me. And I realized in that moment that everyone needs someone, and everyone has someone that needs them. Mandy needed me that night, to give her a second chance, and Cardiff needed me, to help stop others being taken into the Rift."

"I needed you," Jack says softly. Ianto shrugs it off again.

"You needed me to bring you back, that's all. But I realized that there was probably someone out there that needed you. A friend, family. Torchwood." Deep breath. "Even me. You forgave me. I need that, I need to remember that."

"So why are you here now, in the future?" asks Jack. "What do you need?"

"I'm not sure, sir," Ianto replies, reverting to formality and pulling away. "I suppose I want to be needed, hence you sitting there telling me so. But I know your life, and I know I'll never be a part of it."

"You couldn't be more wrong," Jack says. Again he sounds so sad. "Look, I can't tell you what happens, because this _is_ real and it could change the past if I do. So you have to believe me, you matter!"

"It's fine, Jack," he says. "You don't have to say anything. You're just my mind trying to convince me of something I shouldn't even think about."

"I'm real, Ianto," Jack says, sounding desperate. "And you might think I'm not interested, in your time, but I can assure you I am."

"It doesn't matter," Ianto replies, and Jack surges forward to kiss him. It is long and deep and passionate and what the hell? Where is this coming from? Why is Ianto imagining Jack kissing him like this? He wants to stop, but doesn't. It is Jack who pulls away. He stares into Ianto's eyes before a slow grin starts to form.

Reaching into his pocket, Jack pulls out an old stopwatch. "Here. This will do it."

"Do what?" asks Ianto, watching Jack warily. He's practically bouncing with excitement.

"God, sometimes I love time travel!" he laughs. He presses the stopwatch into Ianto's hand. "Take this. Use it well."

"Er…for what?" Ianto asks. Jack's lips quirk to the side.

"There's quite a list," he says with unusual intensity. Ianto isn't sure whether he's serious or making innuendo or both.

"All right," he says. "Sounds like a pick-up line, though."

Jack throws his head back and laughs boisterously. He grabs Ianto and squeezes him in a tight embrace. "Exactly! But read the inscription, that's important, too."

" _You must live in the present…find your eternity in each moment_."

"Henry David Thoreau," Jack says, reaching out to trace the words on the back. "I came back for it, took me forever to track it down. I don't even know why, but I needed to find it. The inscription is a reminder. To live in the moment and cherish the present—not mourn the past, not fear the future."

Ianto swallows hard. The watch is old, very old, and it's clearly precious to Jack. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I think I'm supposed to," Jack says, still overflowing with joy. "You'll understand when you go back. Eventually. You need it now, more than I do. And my past self, he needs it too. Or this won't happen, none of it."

"What do you mean?"

"It's complicated," Jack says. "Time travel and all that."

"So I'm learning," Ianto replies dryly. "So…everything I saw was true then? The time traveling, the Doctor, Estelle Cole?"

Jack nods. "All of it. She gave me the watch."

Ianto glances down in surprise. He'd suspected it was old, but not that old. "The day you left for the war? I saw her press something into your hand."

"That was it," Jack says.

"And now you're giving it to me," Ianto says, shaking his head in wonder. He glances up sharply. "It's a memory of your life with her. I can't take it." He holds it out, but Jack curls his hands around it and pushes it back.

"I didn't do right by her," Jack says. "Because I was too scared to live in the present. This is a reminder not to be scared. Please take it."

"But if this is really happening, your past self is going to wonder what I'm doing with it."

Jack shakes his head. "Trust me, he'll be glad to see it."

Ianto sighs. "Now I really don't know what to believe."

Jack pulls him into an embrace. "Believe this. When you get back, you take out that stopwatch and you'll know it's all real, and so will I." Jack winks. "And that might not be all that happens."

"Oh no, do I even want to know?" Ianto asks. Jack laughs. What an amazing sound.

"You'll find out!" he says. "Because I know you make it back. We still have…well, we still have time together."

"Right," Ianto replies with skepticism, not sure what that means.

"You need to save the world a few dozen times after all," Jack says.

"In between filing and making coffee?" Ianto replies. Jack sighs.

"I know you're more than that, Ianto. And you'll get to prove it when you go back. Trust me." He glances down, looks away before bringing his intense gaze back to Ianto. "And whatever happens, please have faith in me."

"I think I always will," says Ianto. "I don't know why, but I do believe in you, and I told your past self no matter what happens, no matter what you do, I will always forgive you, just as you did for me."

"I do need you," Jack whispers and pulls him close once more. "More than anything at times."

"Maybe," Ianto replies. "Someday."

They are silent for a long moment, Ianto sitting awkwardly in Jack's embrace as he runs his hands up and down Ianto's back, humming into his shoulder. It is as Jack sits back and opens his mouth that it happens.

"Ianto, would you— "

The Rift opens. It is different this time, though. It's quiet, for one, not hissing angrily at him, a steady beacon of light, still and peaceful. It's more beautiful than any of the other times Ianto has seen it, and he feels a sense of calm confidence come over him. Somehow he knows that when he steps through, he'll be back in his own time. Things will be different, though he's not sure how. Jack probably won't remember anything from the past, and Ianto wonders if he'll remember his trip to the future. It seems unlikely, especially if it is all really a dream. He doesn't want it to be, but he prepares himself anyway. The important thing is that he will be back in his own life, not time traveling through Jack's.

Jack's eyes are bright with unshed tears, and Ianto frowns. "I'm going back to you, you know. To the Hub."

"I know," Jack says, wiping away a tear that falls. "But I wish you could stay."

"I'm dead by this time," Ianto replies, and Jack nods.

"And I miss you every day."

Ianto has no idea what to say as he stands. He has no idea what to think, what to feel, or what he's going to do when he gets back to his own time, his own Jack. How can he look at the man he works with every day after meeting this man? A Jack from the future who practically wears his emotions on his sleeve, who seems to care for Ianto far more than he should?

He's saved from thinking about it too much by another spine-tingling kiss from Jack. He is left reeling from the emotions swirling around Jack—pain, heartbreak, loss. When Jack steps back, however, he is smiling, his eyes still bright with tears.

"You have to go back," Jack says, his voice cracking. "I'm waiting for you."

"You're waiting—right." Ianto glances down at the stopwatch, then back at Jack in despair. "Jack, what am I supposed to do when I get back? I've seen so much, and you've told me more than I should know. How do I face you…him…when…" He sighs. "When so much has changed."

"Trust your instincts," Jack says. "Live in the moment. Believe."

"Sounds like new age psychotherapy," Ianto mutters. Jack nods.

"But it's all true, every word. And remember the stopwatch. Things won't be the same without it."

"I still don't want to know," Ianto says, shaking his head.

"Oh, you'll surprise yourself real soon," Jack laughs, then sobers quickly. "Just trust in yourself."

Ianto takes a deep breath and faces the Rift. One last glance over his shoulder fixes this Jack in his mind. "Good-bye, Jack."

"Good-bye, Ianto," Jack says softly. "See you in the past."

Ianto steps through, his mind a muddled mess filled with Time Agents and stopwatches, Doctors and weddings and tuxedos, Torchwood and guns and blood. He knows without a doubt he'll find the Hub, his Hub and his team, waiting for him on the other side, and it is with that sold, comforting thought that he loses consciousness as he spins through the cosmos one last time.

* * *

Author's Note:

Well, that just about killed me. Sometimes I don't know why I try to write the crazy stuff that my brain thinks up, because this was one of those things where I knew what I wanted to do, but how the hell was I going to pull it off? I hope I did and that you were able to follow and enjoy this chapter. Let a girl know? The last chapter should answer most of the questions you might have. Thank you for reading!


	5. Five

Five

When Ianto wakes, Jack is sitting next to him, his head lolled forward on his chest, his breathing quiet and regular. He is asleep, and more peaceful than Ianto has ever seen him. Ianto takes the opportunity to simply study his face, then glances around and realizes that he's back in the Hub, and that it looks exceptionally familiar to his own Hub. He turns back to Jack: floppy hair, blue shirt, tan braces. Is it possible he's back in his own time?

He starts to sit up, but Jack jerks up immediately and stops him. "Ianto!" he exclaims. "You're awake, thank god."

"I'm awake," Ianto replies. They stare at one another for a long moment, until it dawns on Ianto. "You remember me!"

"Of course I do," Jack laughs. "Ianto Jones, coffee king extraordinaire."

"King Ianto, I like that," Ianto murmurs. "Wait, what year is it?"

"The same it's been all year?" Jack offers, obviously confused.

"Jack, what year?"

"It's 2007," he replies. "Why?"

"So I'm back?" Ianto asks. He sits up and throws his legs over the side of the bed. "I'm really back?"

"Did you go somewhere?" Jack asks slowly, as if he's questioning a child. Ianto's good mood evaporates almost instantly and a dozen questions run through his mind. Warning bells are going off in his head, that something's not right. Of course he went somewhere, the Rift snatched him and tumbled him through Jack's timeline for some sort of cosmic kick.

"Well…er…how long was I out?" he finally asks.

"All night. Tosh and I got your call and found you unconscious outside the tourist office."

"And I've been here in the medical bay ever since?" Ianto asks. When Jack nods, Ianto jumps up and starts pacing.

"No, no…that's not right, that's not possible. Jack, it was the Rift! The Rift took me and I…" He trails off at the look on Jack's face. "What?"

"We checked the computers, and there was a brief flare right before you called us, but there's been nothing since. You've been here the entire time, unconscious."

"Here?" Ianto whispers. "In the medical bay?"

"Owen came back in and checked you over, said you were completely fine except for being unconscious for some reason he couldn't explain. He only left when I said I'd keep an eye on you for the night."

"Oh." Ianto glances around for somewhere to collapse, settles on returning to the bed. He sits and lets his head fall toward his knees. "What time is it now?"

"Early morning," Jack replies. "The rest of the team should be here soon. I know they were all worried and planning to take turns sitting with you."

Ianto snorts at that. "Right. Well, I'm fine, as you can see. I should probably kip home for a quick shower." He stands but doesn't move. His heart is racing and he feels sick with all the things going through his head. He stares at the ground, shuts his eyes against the panic.

It didn't happen. None of it. It was all a dream, a damning flight of fancy, his unconscious mind traveling places it could never go while awake. Nothing he'd seen and learned and done was real, in spite of a very convincing Jack in the future telling him so.

"Are you all right?" Jack asks warily, standing and reaching out toward him. Ianto turns away. The monitors jump, his blood pressure rising dramatically. "Maybe you should lie down."

Ianto lies back, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears as his chest constricts. He feels Jack's touch and shies away from it again. "Ianto?" Jack asks softly, his voice hurt and concerned.

"I'm sorry," Ianto whispers, flinging his arm across this face. "It's just that I thought…after all I saw…only none of it happened, nothing was real…"

"Tell me," Jack says. Ianto hears the scrape of a chair across the floor, imagines Jack sitting down, and feels a hand clasp his. He glances at Jack in surprise. "Please, talk to me. What happened out there?"

Ianto takes a deep breath. "I thought it was the Rift," he begins. "There was a bright light, and ever since I've been jumping in time, all over the last several hundred years. You…you were there." He laughs bitterly, letting his eyes slip closed again so he can't see the look on Jack's face as he confesses. "You were there in every time, but you were always different. A Time Agent, a soldier, traveling with the Doctor, conscripted into Torchwood." This time the laugh sounds more like a sob.

There is no response from Jack, and Ianto finally opens his eyes to find Jack staring at him, wide-eyed and pale. He looks away and continues.

"I saw you with Estelle Cole, she was so young and beautiful. I saw you with Melissa. I saw you laughing and happy, I saw you bitter and angry. You punched me. You kissed me. Quite a bit actually. You were so old, so sad, yet so strong…but none of it was real, was it? Even though you told me it was."

Jack drops Ianto's hand, stands, and backs away.

"You…you…" Jack can barely speak. He looks terrified as Ianto sits up, worried.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

"You shouldn't know any of that," Jack whispers. "You never left the Hub! I was right here the entire night! You _can't_ know all that!"

He looks ready to run, which is vaguely how Ianto feels as well, though Jack's words stir hope within him. Ianto never left the Hub…but how did he know these things, things that seem to have utterly rattled Jack? Did it actually happen?

"You're a time traveler," he says, not moving. Jack nods wordlessly. "You worked for the Time Agency, but they did something to your memory so you left. You traveled with the Doctor. " Another nod. "And then you were stranded on earth in the 1800s."

"1869," Jack whispers. "I was all alone for so long."

"You were waiting for the Doctor, you still are. You work for Torchwood while you wait, but you barely age. You left Estelle to fight in the war." Ianto smiles sadly. "You have a daughter."

"But how do you know any of that?" Jack exclaims. "It's my past, and you never left this room!"

"I don't know," Ianto says quietly. "There were times I didn't think it was real, especially at the end, because each time I met you, you never remembered meeting me."

"I still don't," Jack replies. "If you were there in my past, I should remember it. It doesn't make sense."

"Nothing here usually does," Ianto laughs nervously. "Especially when it comes to us."

"Always complicated," Jack murmurs, and Ianto nods.

Jack seems to snap out of it. "But you never left the Hub. There must be some other explanation."

Ianto shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you, sir. I can't explain it either. And I'm sorry if I've…if I've upset you."

"No, it's…" Jack says, waving his hand around, then apparently comes to a decision. He takes a deep breath. "It's not your fault. But it's also not something that leaves this room. So perhaps as far as we're concerned, it didn't happen. Because it doesn't matter."

"What doesn't matter?" asks Ianto, confused. Why is Jack denying his past? It was…it was amazing, both tragic and beautiful, heartbreaking and inspiring. Why would Jack keep such secrets?

"What you saw," Jack says, his voice taking on a desperate edge. "Do you understand? It doesn't matter, it's the past."

"It's who you are!" Ianto exclaims. "I don't see the point in denying it."

Jack's lips curl into a frown. "That's because you didn't live it. Trust me when I say that broadcasting the life I've lived is a very bad idea. As far as you're concerned, it never happened."

"What never happened?" Ianto asks bitterly. "The fact that I apparently traveled through time but never left the room? Of course it didn't happen. But it doesn't take away the fact that I know who you are!"

"You know nothing!" Jack roars, stepping toward Ianto. Ianto holds his ground, will not be threatened by this man who is in so much pain right now. How did he not see it before? How did he ever think Jack didn't feel things like the rest of them? Jack feels _more_ , because he is so much more than any of them know.

"You're right," Ianto replies. "I know nothing about pain and loss and cruelty and hate. I know nothing about Torchwood and how it ruins everything it touches. I know nothing about your past or your future. But I do know this." He takes a step closer to Jack. "I know you're wrong about everything you just said. It _does_ matter."

Jack looks like he's been slapped, and Ianto feels an angry sort of satisfaction. It's as if whenever Jack hurts him, he must lash out and injure Jack as well.

He turns, jamming his hands into his pockets and brushing by Jack, determined to leave. Go home, shower, forget it ever happened. Maybe he really won't come back this time. He's been on an incredible journey, and coming back to this…what's the point? If it really happened and Jack's denying it, how can Ianto live with him? And if it didn't happen because it was some twisted manifestation of his imagination, how could he live with himself?

He stops, tripping as his hands close around something in his pocket. Something warm and round and … no. It can't be.

The stopwatch.

Ianto reaches into his pocket and pulls out the battered stopwatch that Jack had given him in the future. It's a solid weight in his hands that restores his hope, if only a little. He turns to Jack, eyes wide. "You gave me this. In the future. You said it was from Estelle."

Jack stares at his hands, paler than Ianto has seen him yet, slowly shaking his head in denial.

"You said I would pull it out and know it was real," Ianto continues. "I thought it was meant for me, but he said it would help you too. And since Estelle passed away recently, it should be yours to remember her by." He holds out the watch, but Jack does not move. Ianto reads the inscription on the back of the watch.

" _You must live in the present…find your eternity in each moment_." Ianto glances up at Jack and smiles. "Not the whole quotation, but the important bits. Good advice for anyone, I suppose."

He holds it out once more, and Jack reaches a shaking hand for the timepiece. He turns it over and traces the back. Without looking at Ianto, he whispers. "I lost it in the war. I haven't seen it since."

"You lost it?" Ianto replies. "So it's not the same one then…" His doubts return, and he feels like a heel, that he's given Jack a cheap copy of something that was so important to him, even if Jack has been acting like a bit of a prat.

Jack laughs, then bats at his eyes as if wiping away tears. "No, it's the same one. It's off center from getting banged up in the trenches. Same scratch across the back, same replacement button when the first one was blown off. But I haven't seen it in over sixty years."

"Oh." Ianto is now the one left speechless. Jack has confirmed how old he is, for one. So it was all true. But if he lost the watch on the frontlines of the war, how did his future self manage to find it?

"There was no inscription, though," Jack continues so softly Ianto can barely hear him. "That's new."

"Jack, I'm sorry," Ianto starts, and Jack finally, _finally_ , meets his eyes and smiles.

"What for? Thank you," he says. "Thank you for finding it, however you did it. Thank you for bringing it back to me."

"I didn't find it, you did," Ianto replies. "You didn't tell me how, and I couldn't tell you anyway. That's future knowledge and apparently you're back to remembering me so I need to watch what I say." He pauses. "In case it really happened."

Jack studies him carefully and steps forward. "Something happened, though I find it incredibly hard to believe I wouldn't remember you."

"Yes, well," Ianto blusters a bit. "Me too. So maybe it didn't happen after all."

"Then how did you know?" Jack asks. "How did you get the watch?"

"The Rift doth not explaineth," Ianto murmurs, and Jack throws his head back and laughs. He steps forward and kisses Ianto, catching him by surprise with a full, open, passionate kiss. It's different than all the others, but it might also be the one he's wanted the most and gives himself to it fully. Though not easily.

"What was that for?" he asks when Jack steps back.

"Another thank you," Jack replies. "Come on, I'll buy you breakfast too." He takes Ianto's hand and starts to pull him upstairs.

Ianto blanches and drops Jack's hand. "Jack, I should go home, you said the others will be here soon and-"

"And what?" Jack asks. "You need to get them coffee? You deserve a morning off. I'll take you by your flat to clean up if you want."

"I have a car, sir," Ianto protests. Jack anywhere near his flat might prove far too tempting. Expecting a joke, Ianto is surprised when Jack runs a finger along his face, tender and affectionate. Only that's not what's going on, they had agreed on that a week ago. Jack is still his boss, still the man who shot his girlfriend, still cocky and arrogant and infuriating.

He's also more broken than Ianto ever thought, and more beautiful than anyone he's ever known.

"Let me take you home," Jack says, and his voice is soft and unsure.

"You don't really mean that, do you?" Ianto replies, holding Jack's gaze. "We said it was one night only."

Jack kisses him again. "It's morning," he grins when they are done.

"Semantics," Ianto replies with an eye roll. "Why now? What changed?"

Jack gazes down at the stopwatch. "You did. I did. This did." He holds up the watch. "Find eternity in each moment. It's a reminder that I need to live in the present, not stuck in the past, not waiting for the future. Now. You."

"Sooo," Ianto says. "You, me, and a stopwatch, then? That's it?"

"Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch," Jack replies with a wink. Ianto is so relieved to see that wink, that cocky composure that also drives him mad, that he kisses Jack back, full and hard.

"Live in the present, huh?" he asks. He knows his answer, but semantics are part of the game now.

"Find your eternity in each moment," Jack finishes. "Today."

"And tomorrow?" asks Ianto.

"Tomorrow is…a new moment to live," Jack replies. Ianto nods. It's the right answer. He may want Jack again, but he does not want commitment. Day by day sounds like exactly what they need.

"I'm hungry," he announces, nodding toward the stairs.

"For what?" Jack teases. Ianto pretends to think about it.

"Beans and toast first," he replies. Jack waggles his eyebrows.

"And then?"

"We go from there," Ianto replies. "You did say you'd take me home. Maybe I'll invite you up for coffee."

"Ooh, coffee at your flat? Sounds even more brilliant than coffee here at the Hub. Can I drink it naked?"

Ianto laughs, and they grab their coats before heading out the cog door. Jack studies the watch as the lift takes them to the tourist office, smiling warmly at Ianto. "Thank you, again."

"You're welcome," Ianto says. "It did happen, didn't it?"

"How else would you come by this?" Jack asks.

Ianto glances sideways at him. "I don't know anymore."

"Maybe it doesn't matter," Jack offers as they step outside. The sun is up and a few early morning walkers are out on the Quay. A cool breeze ruffles their coats as they set off. When Ianto gives him a skeptical look, Jack shakes his head. "I mean, it doesn't matter _how_ it happened, only that it did. And you know what?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you know. About me."

"So I don't have to forget it after all?" Ianto asks, and Jack nods.

"But the others…" He trails off, the implication clear as he looks away. "I'm not proud of a lot of those things, Ianto. It's still something I'd prefer to keep quiet."

"I understand, sir," Ianto murmurs. Jack huffs at him, and Ianto grins. "It does explain a lot of the more unusual things you like to tell the team. Stories and such."

Jack nods. "They like to think I'm making a lot of it up, and I like them thinking that, because— "

"Because it's part of your suit," Ianto finishes. Jack tips his head in acknowledgement. "I suspect there's even more, isn't there?"

Jack shrugs, hands in his pockets. "Might be," he replies.

"I'm sorry," Ianto says, continuing quickly after Jack's curious look. "For what happened at the pub last week, for tumbling through your past without permission."

"Water under the bridge, Ianto," Jack laughs. Ianto, however, can now see and hear the bluster and bravado hiding the real man.

"And I'm sorry for all you've gone through these long years," he finishes before he loses his nerve. He wants Jack to know that while may not understand what it's been like for Jack, he knows it's been difficult, and it matters.

Jack takes a deep breath, nods, but does not reply. So Ianto offers one last comment.

"And if there is anything I can ever do…" Jack stops walking, and Ianto turns toward him. "I will."

The look in Jack's eyes is one of heartbreak and relief, amazement and joy. Ianto wonders if there will be another kiss, right there on the Quay, but he is interrupted by the unexpected ring of Jack's mobile phone. He holds Ianto's eyes for a long moment before Ianto nods his head toward Jack's pocket.

"You should get that. Might be important."

"So is this," says Jack, but he pulls the phone out anyway, then groans. "It's Swanson." He starts to put it away, but Ianto stops him.

"Jack," he says. "Answer the phone."

Jack grumbles and answers it while Ianto steps away to look out over the water. He feels unusually content, strangley settled given what he's seen and done. Or imagined, but then he remembers the feel of the very real stopwatch and the look on Jack's face when he'd held it, and Ianto has to believe that something happened, even if he can't explain it. All he knows is that his trip through time has apparently done as much for Jack as it has for him. He wonders about the wisdom of taking Jack home with him again, and remembers the advice on the watch. Live in the present.

Jack comes over to the railing and interrupts his thoughts. "I'm afraid we'll have to pick up something for breakfast later," he says softly, his disappointment clear. "Detective Swanson has a crime scene for us. I've called the others in early."

Ianto stands straight. "Of course, sir. What would you like me to do?"

"Coffee back at the Hub?" Jack says. "And then start pulling together any similar cases. She said they had one yesterday, but this one literally has our name written all over it."

"Literally?"

"In blood," Jack replies with a sigh. "Hell of a way to start the day."

Ianto shrugs. "Duty calls. I understand. I'll see what I can find as soon as we get back."

Jack reaches out to lay a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about breakfast," he says, and Ianto waves him off.

"It's fine, Jack."

"What about dinner?" asks Jack. "Assuming we can get away from whatever this might be?"

Ianto stares at him, remembering what one of Jack's past selves had said about asking Ianto out to dinner. He shakes his head, prompting Jack to frown.

"Is that a no?"

"Sorry, I'm remembering something you said in the past," Ianto replies. "And dinner would be fine. Good. Maybe the Indian place on Stuart Street?"

"How did you know I love that place?" Jack exclaims. Ianto smiles to himself and they turn to walk back to the Hub.

"Lucky guess, sir," he says. Jack laughs and bumps his shoulder.

"No, it's not. You know me." He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. "You really know me."

"Difficult job but someone has to and all that," Ianto teases, enjoying another laugh from Jack. They enter the tourist office, but Jack pulls him into an embrace before they step into the lift.

"I'm glad it's you," he says softly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replies, and they head downstairs, ready to start the day.

When Jack tosses him the stopwatch to time the Resurrection Glove, it feels right, but Ianto doesn't think much of it as he hits the button and starts timing their victims. When he feels it in his pocket later on, waiting for Jack to return from killing a formerly dead team member and saving another, he remembers something that the Jack from the future had said about them needing the watch.. And when he's standing over Suzie's body, filling out the paperwork and watching Jack suffer once more, he realizes this is what it meant and knows exactly what to do.

" _If you're interested…I've still got that stopwatch."_

" _So?"_

" _Think about it. Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."_

" _Oh yeah. I can think of a few."_

" _There's quite a list."_

Definitely a bad pickup line, but the look on Jack's face proves its worth. Ianto had said he'd do anything to help Jack, and he will. Once again they both need to forget for a moment how screwed up their lives—and Torchwood—truly are. Why not try to move on together? Put the past aside, live in the moment, and not worry about the future. Tomorrow is another day and will bring whatever it brings. But for that night they can seek comfort with each another once more, and perhaps the next day they will each be a little less broken.

* * *

Author's Notes

The end! I hope that wraps up things satisfactorily for everyone. This was always where it was going. I wanted to take Jack and Ianto from sleeping together in Broken and agreeing it was one night only, to this strange conversation in the morgue using a stopwatch as a pickup line. Plus I think Ianto still has some things to work through, and this story tries to help him through them. As for whether it really happened, in my mind it did. How else would he get the watch? I hope you enjoyed this story. Please consider leaving a comment as we authors drop our words into the ether with the hope that someone, somewhere, will enjoy them, only we often have no idea whether anyone even read them. If you enjoyed reading someone's work, let them know so that they feel encouraged and continue to write, especially in dwindling fandoms like ours. It is always so appreciated, and I can guarantee that it makes the author's day every time. Thank you for reading!


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